


Halbarry Drabbles

by Halbeary



Category: DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics), The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Drabbles, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-05-08 02:58:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5480741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halbeary/pseuds/Halbeary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of smallish one-shots and prompt responses.</p><p>Currently in the process of re-writing a few of the earlier chapters, since they're so ancient. Ch 1 & 4 went through some major rewrites, the rest have been cleaned up a little bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Do a Barrel Roll

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [绿红小短篇](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11234859) by [Cassie_ERmtb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassie_ERmtb/pseuds/Cassie_ERmtb)



> Prompt response: "Ok, but like, Hal taking Barry up in one of the planes and Hal is doing his crazy pilot thing while Barry is like 'yep, this is how my life ends.'"

“Hal. _No_.”

Hal whips his head around, eyes wide as he shoots Barry a crazed smirk. He clamours over the side of the jet and slides into the pilot’s seat with a practiced motion before reaching a hand down expectantly.

“Barry, I already bribed the guard." He pats the side of the jet and the clanging noise makes Barry flinch. "No turning back now.”

Barry glances up at the cold steel. A drop of sweat slides down the side of his temple. It's not that he _minds_ heights, per se. Heck, he distinctly recalls jumping off of skyscrapers in the heat of battle without a moment’s hesitation. This is different, though– this is willfully strapping himself into what barely counts as some engineer’s experimental prototype and hoping for the best. His eyes flicker to the runway in the distance. _How obvious would it be if he faked an emergency back in Central.._

“I don’t think it counts as you bribing the guard when it was my money,” he finally replies, fingers tapping against the side of his thighs like a machine gun.

Hal flat out ignores that statement, smiling down at him fondly as he wiggles his fingers and tilts his head to the side. He notices Barry’s fidgeting and grins wider, patting the side of the jet again as if to say _hop in_. Barry’s eyes dart around, desperately searching for an excuse that would get him out of this.

“How about we do something slightly less awesome and save this for, um, later–” _or never_ “– when the, uh, the weather conditions are more.. clear.”

Hal’s eyes flick upwards. His eyebrow quirks as he takes in the completely cloudless sky before letting out a snort, eyes crinkling with amusement as he catches Barry tugging on the collar of his bowtie.

“Come on. Don’t you trust me?”

Barry blinks up at him. "I trust _you_ , not this–" he grimaces at shoddy looking weld job on the sides of the jet "– _experiment_."

Hal huffs and reaches his hand out further. Barry catches the expression on his face. _Shoot_ , _he’s not going to let this go._ He knows that look; the one that he always gets right before throwing himself head-first at an actual living god, or when he’s about to say something purposefully antagonistic towards Bats that will inevitably end in Barry having to intervene before the punches start flying.

Barry pinches the bridge of his nose, a sigh of acceptance on his lips.

At least he’ll go out in a blaze of glory.

Hal’s hand curls around his forearm as he lets himself be pulled upwards, foot slipping off the jet’s wing as he clumsily flops into the passenger seat. He eyes the mishmash of belts with distaste. _Oh god, it’s even smaller on the inside._

“Can’t you at least wear your ring?”

A helmet plops on his lap and Barry cautiously picks it up and shoves it onto his head, hands shaking a bit as he fumbles with the strap under his chin. Hal flicks some switches on the dash before Barry hears his voice in the comms inside his helmet.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Barry closes his eyes for a moment to try to quell the sudden surge of nausea in his stomach as his fingers struggle to tighten the strap. His brain helpfully supplies him with several different scenarios, each harder to pull off than the last, involving him saving them both from an exploding jet engine and getting them both safely to the ground. _He can probably pull it off.. maybe.._

Hal’s hands settle over his own and he opens his eyes to see Hal’s mouth tilted in a soft smile as he gently tugs his hands away from the strap to adjust it himself. He makes sure it’s secure, taps the tip of Barry’s nose with his finger and spins back around in his seat to push another combination of buttons.

“Alright Bar, buckle up.” Hal’s voice sounds ridiculous through the low-quality speakers. “I’ll be sure to keep it nice and gentle for ya’.”

Barry shoots a glare in Hal’s general direction, seriously doubting that last part, but still pulls the two seatbelts over his shoulders and snaps them across his chest. Hal taps another button and the top glass starts to slowly descend, clicking against the side of the jet like the final nail in a coffin. The engine roars to life all at once and Barry jerks in response, banging his head against the top of the jet before bracing himself against the cold steel, eyes clenching tight with panic.

_This is it. This is where he dies._

He hears Hal let out a breathless laugh and Barry pries his eyes open. Hal turns his head back to make sure that Barry is all strapped in, maniacal grin on his face and cheeks flushed with such raw happiness that Barry can’t help but smile in return. His heart rate spikes unpleasantly as Hal turns back around and yanks on the brake release. There’s a tense moment of hesitation as the engine revs louder and louder, and, before he can really prepare himself, there’s a loud _BANG_ and the jet shoots off down the runway.

Barry lets out an undignified yelp, one hand braced against the ceiling as the other clutches at the side of the jet in desperation, clenching his teeth as he tries to focus on not vibrating straight through the floor. The jet isn’t even moving that fast– at least not to _him_ – but the metal is rattling like it’s about to fall apart, and Barry _really_ did not think that he would die in a fiery explosion in the middle of a desert in California.

His eyes are shut tight, sweat pouring down his face as he ducks his head and tries to remember how to breathe. The jet jerks as it lifts off the ground and Barry’s stomach somersaults sickeningly. _Oh god._ His hand snaps over his mouth as he tries _really_ hard not to vomit all over himself. He hears Hal let out a whoop of laughter from somewhere in front of him as he folds himself in half, breath coming hard through his nose.

Hal takes them up for another thirty seconds before finally leveling out. The earpiece in Barry’s helmet crackles to life.

“You doing ok back there buddy? You didn’t throw up in Carol’s jet, did you?”

Barry sucks in another breath. "I’m– I’m fine. Just,” his voice sounds strained, mouth set in a tight grimace, “give me a minute.” The rolling feeling in his stomach subsides ever so slightly as Hal keeps the plane very still. He hears Hal snort at him through the helmet’s receiver, and then a warm hand reaches back to squeeze his knee.

“Barry, just– open your eyes. Look.”

Barry takes another deep breath before cracking his eyes open, blue eyes boring a hole into his lap until he’s _fairly_ sure he’s not going to puke. He pulls his head up with great effort. His eyes widen as he lets out a startled gasp. _Oh, wow_.

The sky is beautiful– completely clear with a bright full moon. The moonlight bounces off the metal wing of the jet and fades back into the night, disappearing into the starlight as they cut through the cold autumn air. He arches his head closer to the glass ceiling of the jet to get a better view.

“Wow.”

Hal sways the jet back and forth like a kid on a bike, a laugh of delight escaping his lips, and Barry finds himself more drawn to that sound than the sights around him.

He looks completely at ease up here. Like every little worry he’s ever had melted off of him the second the landing gears left the ground. Barry catches his reflection in the top of the ceiling and revels in the bright smile that stretches across Hal’s entire face. He’s never seen him like this– so completely at peace and relaxed, like they’re not hundreds of feet above the ground going mach 3 in a barely tested hunk of metal and bolts.

 _It’s just something me and my dad used to do_ , Hal had said hours ago, when their feet were knocking together on the pier, three boxes of pizza between them and the ocean lapping against the soggy wood below. He had been surprised that Hal had even mentioned him. Hal _never_ talks about his dad, and Barry never pushes. It’s an unspoken thing between them– not bringing up dead parents. Barry remembers the way Hal had scratched at the back of his neck like he was embarrassed, how Hal had looked so hopelessly endearing that he couldn’t dream of saying _no_ to whatever Hal wanted to show him.

He gets it, suddenly, why Hal does this. What makes him take off his ring and throw himself into the sky with reckless abandon.

It’s his way of staying close to his dad.

This was _their_ thing, like how when Barry closes his eyes while kneading dough in his kitchen he can still sometimes hear his mom’s humming, or feel her hands on his shoulders telling him that he’s doing a good job. It takes Hal back to a simpler time, makes him feel like he’s eight years old again back when everything made sense. He imagines Hal up here as a kid, nose pressed against the cold glass and warm brown eyes blown wide with excitement. His hand reaches for Hal’s neck on instinct and he rubs at the base of his head with a gentle squeeze to let him know that he gets it. He understands.

“Thank you.” _For sharing this with him. For trusting him._ Hal keeps his heart closely guarded, and Barry is beyond grateful that he chose to share this little piece of himself with him.

Hal _hums_ appreciatively in his earpiece and reaches up to thread their fingers together. Hal’s thumb brushes against the back of Barry’s hand in a way that makes something warm unfurl in Barry’s chest. His eyes flicker up to the night sky once again and he lets the last of his anxiety drain out of him.

The quiet, cozy atmosphere lasts another minute before Hal squeezes his fingers and drops his hands back to the controls. He flicks a switch and the jet drops a few feet in the air. Barry’s nausea returns all at once. _Well, it was nice while it lasted_.

“Alright Bar, enough stargazing. Time to see what this baby can do.”

Barry’s eyes widen in horror. He manages to get a strained “– Harold Jordan, don’t you _dare_ –” out before Hal lets out a truly insane sounding cackle and jerks the jet to the left. The metal around his rattles, the engine sounds like it’s about to spontaneously combust, and Barry braces himself for the inevitable end.

 

\-----------------

 

Twenty minutes later, Barry’s slumped over a large bucket construct, Hal supporting his weight as he tries– and fails– not to laugh.

“Come on Bar, it was only _one_ barrel roll.”


	2. Running on Empty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt response: "OKAY so y'know how sometimes the flash getting changed into his uniform is depicted like a whirlwind, right? okay, well, AU where the whirlwind is caused by barry hopping rapidly in a circle trying to tug his boots on, except one time he trips and slams right into hal"

Barry eases the stretchy fabric off his forehead, the last of his adrenaline fading as he tugs on his gold earpieces with exhaustion. He runs a hand through his hair and grimaces when it comes away damp with sweat.  _Gross._

The battle had raged on for hours.Barry’s pretty sure he ran the circumference of the globe at least  _ten times_  over. He needs sleep _,_ no less than ten pizzas– a drop of sweat drips into his eyes and he flinches– _ugh_ , and a shower.

He hears a loud voice echoing down the Watchtower hall _" – i_ _t was only one building!_ ” and smiles to himself.  _Hal._ _Maybe he'll want to go grab some food.._

His feet throb and he suddenly can't stand to have his feet encased in this protective polymer for another second. He bends down to tug off a boot, world slowing around him as he taps into the speedforce with a practiced motion. The hidden zipper around the back of his boot blurs for a moment, room tilting dangerously as he rapidly blinks his eyes to try to refocus them. _Ok, maybe food before sleep._ He isn’t sure how many calories he burned today, but it’s definitely record-setting.

He manages to wrangle one boot off and sighs with relief as his bare foot hits the cold metal bulwark. He’s pretty sure his  _blisters_  have blisters. He’s definitely not running back to Central tonight.

A loud bark of laughter interrupts his self-pity party. Barry blinks slowly as he realises he’s slipped back into relative time. He stares at the bright yellow of his boot in confusion.  _What was he doing?_  Oh yeah–  _boots_.

He grabs the zipper of his left boot, tugs it down a few inches, and then room suddenly wobbles, his vision completely blacking out as he body decides that it’s had enough. _Uh oh_. Barry's passed out enough to know what follows, so he closes his eyes, accepts his fate and braces himself for impact. Gravity pulls him downwards until he collides with something that is definitely  _not_  the metal floor of the Watchtower.

“Hey. You alright?”

His eyes drag open, purple spots clouding his vision as he furrows his eyebrows, blinking to try to focus on whoever’s speaking, room spinning in a sickening spiral.

"I–”

He blinks a few more times, blob above him slowly turning more green as the spots in his vision fade. Barry frowns. _Metal isn’t green – is he back on Earth?_

A warm hand makes contact with his forehead and he leans into it with a small groan. The heat feels amazing on his clammy skin. He takes a deep breath to try to quell the nausea in his stomach and gets a whiff of oiled leather and ozone– _oh_. It's Hal _._

He blinks his eyes open when Hal removes his hand from his forehead, pleased to see the world has stopped spinning so much as he drags his gaze to Hal’s concerned face.

“Bar, you okay? Need me to get J’onn?”

Barry finally notices the position he’s in– trapped against Hal’s chest, one boot missing, other dangling off his foot. It’s just them in the corridor, but he still flushes with embarrassment and wriggles to try to escape. The room lurches again and he groans, one hand moving down to clutch his stomach as the other presses against his eyeballs. He grinds his teeth against the onslaught of dizziness. _God_ , he  _really_ needs to eat something.

“ _Barry_ , if you don’t say something I’m gonna drag your ass to medical whether you like it or not.”

That gets him to open his eyes. He shoots a glare in the direction of Hal’s face before licking his dry lips and attempting to speak.

“I’m– I’m fine, sorry.” He tries to push himself off of Hal’s chest. Hal bats his hand away in an instant.

“Stop that. You’re not fine– you’re almost as pale as Bruce.”

Hal slides his hand down Barry’s neck, gently pressing two fingers to his pulse. The embarrassment is slowly being replaced by exhaustion, and Barry’s eyes droop as he unconsciously leans into Hal’s chest.

“Just need to eat somethin'," his voice is muffled by the warm green fabric on Hal's stomach. "Ran too much. Happens sometimes.”

He sees Hal frown at him before glancing down the corridor and visibly coming to a decision. He slides a hand under Barry’s knees, slips the other under Barry’s neck and hefts him from the floor all at once. He pauses to adjust his grip before moving them in the direction of the Watchtower kitchen.

Barry’s too tired to protest, head lolling against Hal’s chest weakly. They’re almost out of the corridor before he remembers–

“ _Wait!_  M’boot–”

He can feel the vibrations from Hal's snort, hears the familiar  _thrum_ of a construct floating past his head. Hal scoops up his boot and then they're moving again.

“Alright Bar, time for a victory feast." Hal's eyes suddenly light up, mouth curling in a trademark smirk as he glances down at Barry. "I know where J’onn stashes his Oreos.”


	3. Of Donuts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt response — "Who's the one to make breakfast?"

Barry’s whole body jerks, bolting upright as he tries to blink himself awake. Adrenaline floods his system as a siren sound blares in his ears. Panic wells in his throat as his instincts kick in– _he has to get to him, has to run faster._  He taps into the speedforce as the world slows around him, synapses firing at light speed as he takes a moment to process and–  _oh_.

Alarm clock.

He slips back into relative time with a relieved sigh.  _It’s not real._  He doesn't realise that his foot is tangled in the sheet and almost falls off the bed before he manages to right himself by slamming his hand on his alarm clock for balance. Every morning is an exercise in not using his superspeed to vibrate the cheap plastic’s molecules until they explode.

The obnoxious beeps are finally silenced and Barry’s heart rate slows to normal speedster pace as he rubs a hand over his eyes. His shoulders sag with exhaustion as the panic dissolves into the solitary darkness of his tiny bedroom. He eyes the bright red numbers on the display and grimaces. Less than four hours of sleep.  _Again_. He doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.

His bare feet hit the cold wood floors of his apartment as he pushes himself out of the blanket cocoon he’s made for himself, stumbling towards the bathroom in a daze. Luthor’s latest anti-Justice League task force has been wreaking havoc on the team, not to mention Barry’s sleep schedule. He’s had to finally use the vacation time he’s been storing up for the last few  _years_  just to make sure the world doesn’t go to shit in a  _day_.

He trips over the threshold to the restroom, steadying himself on the doorframe before reaching for the faucet handle with a shaking hand. The quiet rush of water echoes off the tiled floors with an eerie sound, and Barry’s eyes defocus as his mind grasps at the fading contents of the nightmare he’d been having.

The nightmares aren't anything new– it's just the price one has to pay when they're in his line of work. But lately they've been more.. _focused_. There’s always a battle that they can’t win, he’s always too slow, and Hal  _always_  dies in some horrific way before he wakes up. He can never save him, no matter how hard he tries, and it’s driving him  _insane_.

He ducks his hands under the freezing cold water and splashes his face as he tries to forget the horrible images of Hal being  _crushed to death, targeted by Darkseid’s lasers and crumbling to dust, suffocating in the cold darkness of space–_   _stop._

Barry takes comfort in the rough feeling of his towel as he scrubs at the dried sweat on his skin, trying to force his brain to stop thinking about such horrible stuff at six o’clock in the morning. He purses his lips at himself in the mirror. He’s had nightmares about Hal before, but never so frequently. It’s been happening every night for the last  _week. Why? Why now?_ _What changed?_

His right hand clenches against the cool marble of the bathroom counter, left hand dragging through his hair in frustration. Hal’s been away for the last week– some  _Very Important Space Incident_  that had to be dealt with pronto _–_ and for some reason Barry can't shake the feeling that something might happen to him. Somehow, the thought of Hal half way across the universe where he can’t be there to back him up has morphed from a mild worry to something that causes him to wake up drenched in sweat every night.

The bathroom light flicks off with a quiet  _click_  as Barry pads towards the kitchen, brain still scrambling to try and figure out what changed. It’s not that he doesn’t always miss Hal when he’s off on a mission for the Corps, or worry about him. Logically, he knows that Hal is probably one of the most powerful guys in the universe– being able to take a few punches from Doomsday and live to tell the tale is no easy feat– but the thought of him out there where Barry can’t keep an eye on him still causes his heart rate to spike unpleasantly.

It’s not like he’s the only one that misses him. The Justice League just isn’t the same without Hal’s familiar green light to lead the – usually ill-advised– charge. He and Barry are always completely in sync, able to execute complicated tag-teams that leave their villains sorry they got out of bed that morning. When he’s not there to have his back, it’s like half of him is missing. He freezes. _And that is something that he will never admit to anyone ever, because that might be the most embarrassing thing he's ever thought._

The kitchen light flickers once before illuminating with a low  _hum._  Barry’s stomach interrupts his thoughts with a loud _growl_  as he pads to the fridge. He tries to shove all thoughts of Hal and any lingering embarrassment out of his mind and just focus on the day ahead. He could really go for an omelette, or twenty– running around the world multiple times each day was making his calorie intake spike drastically. He’s pretty sure he's banned from the mongolian place down the street from his apartment  _forever_. Barry purses his lips–  _so much for 'all you can eat'_.

He pulls on the handle with a loud yawn, shivering as the cold air hits his bare torso. He had been too tired last night to do anything but strip off his suit and faceplant onto his bed. He blinks his eyes to try to focus them before his whole body freezes with horror.

The fridge is almost entirely empty. The only edible things he can see are a pathetic-looking stick of misshapen butter and a single moldy potato. His stomach clenches in hunger as he slouches against the stainless steel, despair washing over him as his eyes slip closed.

It isn’t just the fact that he has  _no food._  No, this is just the final nail in the coffin on an utterly  _horrible_  week.

He lets the fridge door swing shut, gravity pulling his head down against the cold metal with a  _thunk_  as he tries to force his brain to come up with a game plan that doesn’t involve the Flash starving to death in his kitchen.  _God, he really can't deal with this right now_ –

There’s a loud knock on his front door and his head snaps up, eyes narrowing in suspicion. _Who would be trying to see him at_ – his eyes glance at the kitchen clock– _six fifteen in the morning?_ He sprints to his room for a shirt, grabs his Flash ring off the nightstand and carefully rests his thumb over the release mechanism as he inches towards the door. After the week he’s had, he would  _not_  be surprised if Captain Cold has finally figured out his identity and is currently waiting on his porch in ambush.

He cautiously moves the flap out of the way and peers out the peephole. His suspicion only grows when he sees nothing but darkness. The door creaks open and Barry cautiously pokes his head out into the morning air.

“Hey Bar. You miss me?”

His head whips to the left to see Hal Jordan leaning against the wood panels of his apartment with a casual smirk on his face, right hand raised in a two-finger salute. He lets his eyes drag down Hal’s body. _God,_ he almost forgot how good Hal manages to look without even trying, chocolate hair rustling gently in the wind, collar of his dad’s leather jacket popped slightly against the cold. A warm feeling bursts in his chest, the constant sense of worry he’s been feeling all week finally dissolving in a rush. He’s here; he’s  _safe_.

The cold air hits his bare legs and Barry glances down at his current state of undress, heat rising in his cheeks. He’s about to open his mouth to respond when the _smell_ hits his nostrils. His stomach growls loudly as he notices the four cardboard boxes Hal’s carrying under his left arm for the first time. The words are leaving his mouth before his brain can even react–

“Oh my god, are those  _donuts?”_

Hal barks out a huge laugh, eyes crinkling around the edges as he slides his right arm around Barry’s shoulder and maneuvers them into the dim apartment. Barry steadfastly ignores the way his heart rate spikes at the warm point of contact. Hal plops the boxes of donuts down on the kitchen table, ducking his head a bit as his hand moves to scratch at the back of his head.

“Yeah, well a little green birdy told me when I entered Earth’s satellite range this morning that a certain speedster was pulling  _way_  too much overtime." He smiles as he pats the top of the box of donuts. "Figured I’d make sure you weren’t passed out on the floor somewhere. _Again_.”

Barry stares, feet glued to the floor as his mind struggles to put a name to the emotion that’s currently flooding his entire body.

Hal Jordan had brought him  _food_ , even though he probably– _definitely_ – can’t afford it _._ The  _first thing_  that he did when he finally got back from his week-long space mission was to fly to Central, stop by Barry’s favorite donut shopand come straight to his apartment to make sure he was alright. At the exact moment when Barry needed him he was suddenly  _here,_ leaning against his apartment with a smirk on his face, and suddenly Barry could breathe _._

Barry’s chest tightens with emotion, eyes stinging as they dart between the boxes of donuts and Hal’s worried face, brain processing at lightspeed.

 _Oh god,_ he  _knows_  what this feeling is, this warmth that is currently filling his chest, the giddy feeling he gets when he sees Hal smile. He  _knows_ what it means–

 _–_ it means he’s _screwed **.**_


	4. Empty Beds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt response: "Who stays up 'till 2 AM reading?"

Hal’s eyelashes drag against the soft cotton of the pillow as he blinks his eyes open, unsure what woke him. He lifts his head, squinting to try to focus his eyes at the bright neon numbers on the clock– 2:40 AM _. Urgh, gross._

There’s a soft  _thump_ from somewhere beyond the door and he immediately tenses, rolling over to check if Barry's– oh.  _Empty bed_.

Hal yawns loudly, one hand coming to scratch at his bare stomach while the other rubs at his eyeballs to try to wake up as he rolls out of the bed. His feet drag against the wood floors of Barry’s apartment as he heads out of the bedroom. He makes it to the entrance to the living room, tired eyes scanning the dark room for his speedster.

Barry is slumped over on a mountain of old case files, drooling a bit as his hand curls around a mug of cold coffee. The warm light from the desk lamp glints off the tips of his long eyelashes as he snores softly. Hal pads across the cold floor as he sneaks up behind him, leaning over and gently easing Barry’s arm away from the top most paper, his curiosity getting the better of him.

He skims through the first few lines– _found by her son on the floor of her home. Cause of death: sharp force injury to the heart. Murder weapon: serrated kitchen knife, apprx. 6 inches long. Forensic report concludes that the fingerprints are a match for one Henry Allen._

Hal stops reading, frown on his face as he stares at the curve of Barry’s cheekbone. He reaches a hand up to gently card through Barry’s hair, smiling as he lets out a small sleepy noise and leans into the contact.

Barry doesn’t really talkabout his parents that often– well,  _ever_. Hal’s never really pried; god knows he has his own issues in that regard. He knows about Barry’s mom’s murder, how her husband had been convicted, and how Barry believes his dad’s innocent. He should have realised that Barry wouldn’t give up on a case, even after a decade _–_ that’s just the kind of guy he is. It’s one of the things Hal loves most about him, that he always tries to find the good in people, even when they probably don’t deserve it.

He rubs his hand down the back of Barry’s head towards his shoulders, smiling fondly as the blond lets out a cute little snore. Barry is always so positiveandhopeful;the calm and collected voice of reason on the team, always looking out for everyone else.Halsometimes forgets that he’s dealing with some pretty heavy baggage, too.

His eyes flick to the clock. He’ll mention it in the morning, offer to help in some way. They're partners. He doesn’t want Barry to feel like he has to do everything alone.

He shakes Barry’s shoulder with a gentle motion. Blue eyes immediately blink open, brows furrowing in confusion. Hal smiles fondly.

“Hey there, gorgeous.”

Barry lifts his head off the desk, paper sticking to his cheek briefly before fluttering to the top of the pile. He glances to the small clock on the desk before groaning, hand coming up to rub at the bridge of his nose.

“Hey.” His voice is rough with sleep as he turns his head towards Hal to throw him a sleepy smile. “Sorry–” he cuts himself off with a huge yawn “– I lost track of time.” He glances down at the case files and the smiles on his face slips.

Hal doesn’t say a word as he leans over to shut off the desk lamp. He gently pulls Barry out of the chair before he can start thinking again, grabbing his hand and tugging him in the direction of the bedroom. He catches a glimpse of Barry’s expression, a depressing mixture of exhaustion and wariness, before he’s pushing him onto the bed with a gentle motion, crawling up behind him and burying his face into the blond strands. He arranges himself so that he's the big spoon, arm curling around Barry’s stomach as he slips his calf in between the speedster’s legs with a contented sigh.

Barry is still tense against him, brain obviously working  _way_  faster than it should be at three o’clock in the morning. He drags his hand from Barry’s chest to his hair to rub his fingers at the base of his neck.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Barry stills for a moment– and then lets out a huge breath, whole body relaxing as he turns around. His arm slips over Hal’s hip as he buries his face into the pilot’s neck. He feels the corners of Barry’s mouth turn up against his skin as he tugs him closer.

“I know.”

That’s good enough for Hal– at least for tonight. He drags the comforter up with his foot, draping it haphazardly over their bodies as he waits for Barry’s breathing to even out before finally resting his chin on the top of Barry’s hair and closing his eyes.


	5. Dusty Sheets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They were too late.

The city is quiet as he enters the lower atmosphere, distant lights flickering in the darkness as a gentle breeze ruffles his hair. He drags his eyes towards the outskirts of downtown, willing himself in that direction with a tired command. **  
**

He probably should go back to Coast City, should go back to his empty apartment and dust off his sheets, crack open a bottle of Jameson and drink until he can’t remember the mission, the blood and thefire _;_  that’s what he normally does. This time, however.. this time the thought of sitting alone in that musty apartment makes something in him break and he– he just  _can’t_.

He does a quick scan with his ring to check for people watching before setting down on Barry’s balcony. It’s late, sometime after midnight– he doesn’t know if Barry’s even home but he cracks open the sliding door anyways, easing through the gap and slipping into his best friend’s living room.

He glances around with tired eyes, taking in the empty coffee mug leaving imprints on the pile of papers scattered over the table, the blinking of the DVR signaling a successful recording– _probably one of his lame procedural cop shows, the dork–_  the quiet  _tick tick tick_  of the clock above the stove echoing around the room. He drags himself to the couch and drops onto it with an  _oomph_ , letting his uniform fade from existence as he tries to let go of the weird tension in his body.

It feels like he’s a string pulled taut, his life tugging him in every direction until there’s no room left to breathe. The corps hounding on him to take more off-world missions, Carol harassing him over his sporadic job attendance, Batman bitching at him about protecting the  _image_  of the Justice League, and that _fucking mission_ ,  _the tiny hand slipping from his grasp as he cradles her small body, blood leaking onto his uniform–_

“Hal?”

He drags his head up from where he had buried it in his hands, blinking at the concerned face of Barry Allen staring down at him. That tight feeling in his chest immediately loosens as he takes in a deep breath. Barry always has a sort of calming presence around him; there's just something about his face that puts his mind at ease and makes him think that everything's gonna be okay. _Maybe it's the way that he always genuinely seems to care about what happens to him_. The thought still makes Hal confused, even though they've been friends for years now. He shakes his head and shoots Barry a tired smile.

“Hey Bar.”

Barry furrows his eyebrows, eyes blinking to try to wake up as he drops to sit on the couch besides him.

“What’re you doing here at–” he turns to squint at the clock on the wall “– _two thirty_  in the morning?" Barry leans a bit closer and Hal has to stop himself from sighing at the body heat he can feel emanating off of him. Barry's always so goddamn _warm_. Blue eyes catch his own.

"Are you alright?”

Hal takes a moment to scan his eyes over the speedster’s body, noting the comfy looking sweatpants, bare feet, and soft red shirt. A trickle of guilt pulls at his stomach.

“Sorry,” the word catches in his throat a bit. He turns his head back towards his feet. “I.. um _,_  I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Barry doesn’t deign that with a response. There's a  _whooshing_ noise and before Hal can blink, two beers appearing on the table in front of them. Hal drags his hand down his face before grabbing the cold bottle, condensation dripping over his hand.

“Thanks.”

Barry hums in response, sipping his beer slowly as he leans back against the back of the couch, eyebrow raised in scrutiny.

“How was the mission?”

Hal’s whole body tenses up, hand freezing from where it had been fiddling with the lip of the bottle. The tightness in his chest returns, heart rate spiking unpleasantly.

“It–” his left hand comes up to press against his eyeballs “– we.. we didn’t get there in time.”

He’s vaguely aware of Barry’s sharp inhale as his mind slips back to the last twenty-four hours.  _Skipping out of the Justice League meeting due to a planetary distress call from a few systems over, giving Batman a mocking salute as he flies out the exit towards what he thought was just another routine evac_. His breath is coming in short gasps now, sweat forming on his forehead as he remembers the  _entire city completely destroyed, buildings on fire, ash clouding the air as he desperately scans for any survivors, please let there be_ someone _alive–_

He clenches his fist around the beer bottle, blood pounding against his temples, the  _blood splashing over his uniform as he finds the girl, soft blue skin peeling from burns as she coughs up ash and blood, so much blood, crying to please, please help me and he can’t, there’s nothing he can do, he failed this planet, he failed–_

He’s pulled from his thoughts by a gentle squeeze of Barry’s hand on his knee. He turns his head towards the speedster, focusing on the downward tilt of Barry's mouth, the concerned furrow of his eyebrows, the dark blue of his eyes, the quiet ticking of the clock in the background. He lowers his eyes, headache thumping behind his forehead, and lets out a tired sigh.

A warm hand sinks into his hair and gently tugs at the brown strands.

“You have ash in your hair.”

The words make Hal feel nauseous as he thinks of how it got there and he sinks his head further into his hands, eyes falling shut as the sound of his heartbeat in his ears starts to drown out the quiet sounds of the apartment. He feels the couch dip as Barry gets up. The beer bottle disappears from his hand and there's another gust of wind before Barry sits back down, this time on the coffee table in front of him. He places his hand back on Hal's knee, and Hal stares at the way his thumb moves in a comforting circular gesture.

“When was the last time you slept?”

Hal raises his head with a massive effort, squinting his eyes as he tries to remember. “What day is it?”

Barry raises an eyebrow, taking this as confirmation that it’s been too long. He shoots Hal an exasperated glance, easing himself off of the coffee table before moving a hand under Hal’s arm, pulling upwards with a gentle tug.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. You can stay here tonight.”

He tugs again, this time with more persistence. Hal glances up at him, takes in the stubborn expression on his face and decides that he's too goddamn tired to argue. He exhales slowly and pushes himself to his feet, swaying a bit as he stands upright without the ring’s assistance.  _God_ , he’s never been this tired in his  _life_.

Barry steadies him with both hands, makes sure he's not going to fall over before he drops his left hand to grab Hal’s. Hal blinks as Barry navigates them around the couch and tugs him in the direction of the bathroom. _Has he ever held Barry's hand before?_ His fingers shift in Barry's grip, something warm rising up from his chest and settling in his cheeks.  _It's nice_ , he decides.

Barry pulls him down the hallway and stops at the bathroom door. He drops Hal’s hand to flick on the lightswitch before moving to twist the faucet on the sink. Hal watches as he drops to his knees to rummage through the cupboard under the sink, flexing his left hand at the sudden cold feeling. He slumps back against the wall, sliding his back down the bumpy surface as he drops to the floor. He runs a hand through his hair to try and stifle the weird tight feeling in his chest. He accidentally inhales some of the grey flakes that fall down around him, and he coughs with a wet, ragged sound.  _Shit_ , _gross._

Barry stands to wet the towel as he shoots another exasperated glance in Hal’s direction, thoroughly dousing the cloth before bending down to wipe at Hal’s face.

Hal starts to protest– _he's a grown man, thank you very much_ – arm moving up to grab Barry’s hand before it gets swatted away before Hal can react.

“Stop it. You’re about to collapse.”

Hal narrows his eyes, but lets Barry do whatever it is that he wants to do because he's too tired to do anything else. Barry shoots him a knowing glance as he gently cards his fingers through Hal’s hair, making sure that the ash falls away from his face. Hal closes his eyes at the sensation, head learning into Barry’s ministrations as a comfortable silence fills the small bathroom.

Not for the first time, Hal wonders what the fuck he did in his life to deserve a friend like Barry. Never in his entire goddamn life has he had someone who cared about him enough to do something like this. It's something that he wants to get used to, something that he'd like to be able to rely on, but also something that he knows he can't.

 _It's only temporary_ , he reminds himself as Barry shifts his hand to grab the towel and wipe it along the exposed skin of his arm. The tips of Barry's fingers brush over his bare skin and he can't help the way his whole body shivers. He grits his teeth.  _It's only temporary_ ,  _don't get used to it. This won't last._

Hal blinks his eyes open to try and distract himself from the familiar surge of self-loathing that floods his stomach. He observes Barry as he gently wipes the towel over the dirt on his skin. He notices the light blush on his cheeks, the flicker of his long eyelashes as he blinks his eyes to stay awake, the bruise covering the right side of his face– _wait–_

Hal frowns and moves his hand to gently poke at the bruise on Barry’s face. Barry flinches at the contact, pausing in his movements to shoot an unamused glare at him. Hal raises a questioning eyebrow in return, letting gravity pull his arm back to the ground. The blush on Barry’s face deepens a bit as he swipes the towel down Hal’s ring finger, gently wiping the dirt and ash from his skin before moving to the next finger.

“It's nothing." He swipes the towel a little more forcibly. "Just a minor incident with Mirror Master.”

Hal snorts at the nickname– _Mirror Master_ , really. Barry switches to his other hand as Hal turns his knee inward, knocking it against the side of Barry’s thigh distractedly. The adrenaline is finally dying off, a tired, empty feeling replacing it as Barry finishes and tosses the towel into a nearby hamper. The speedster pushes to his feet with a huff, pausing to raise his arms over his head as he stretches with a huge yawn.

Hal catches a glimpse of toned abs and a trail of blonde hair before he’s getting hauled to his feet and pushed out the door. He stumbles a bit over the lip of the carpet. Barry puts a hand on the middle of his back and guides him through a doorway.

He blinks when Barry pushes him onto the bed, finally taking in that he’s in  _Barry’s_  room, on  _Barry’s_   _bed._  A sleazy smirk grows on his face as Barry kneels to pull off his shoes.

Barry very deliberately doesn’t glance up as he works the sneaker off of Hal’s foot. Hal can see the blush on his cheeks and grins in delight.

“Stop that.”

Hal laughs as he let's himself flop backward on the bed, allowing himself to take a moment to appreciate his current situation. He basks for a whole of two seconds before a pair of sweatpants _thwacks_ against his face.

He makes a protesting sound, pulling the sweats off his face and pursing his lips in Barry's direction. He sits up, not caring if Barry is looking as he strips off his jeans and tugs the sweatpants on. He hears Barry clear his throat from somewhere behind him and musters a grateful smile as he turns to face him.

“Thanks, Bar.”

Barry ducks his head, a cute grin on his face. What a dork, honestly. Barry scratches at the back of his neck, foot sliding against the carpet.

“You take the bed; you need a decent night’s sleep. Or a decent  _week’s_  sleep.”

Barry shuffles towards the door and a wave of panic surges in Hal’s chest. His arm shoots forward before he can stop himself, snagging Barry by the elbow to stop him. Both of them stare at the point of contact.

“I–”

Hal cuts himself off, unable to form the words.  _I don't want to be alone. Don't go._ That's what he wants to say, but he knows he doesn't deserve whatever comfort he might get by having Barry stay. He can't ask him that. He just  _can't_. But he also can't seem to let go of Barry's arm, fingers caught in a death grip around his elbow. He bites his lip and stares at the carpet.

Barry's hand settles over his own for the second time that night, fingers gently prying Hal's grip from his arm. Their palms slide together and Barry squeezes his hand to get his attention. Hal blinks up at him, hating how vulnerable he feels sitting here in Barry's room with Barry's hand in his own like they're something they're not. Barry's eyes flick between his own and then his expression softens, mouth quirking in a small smile and he squeezes his hand a little more forcibly.

"It's okay," his voice is soft, almost a whisper and Hal's eyes slip closed as he lets Barry's reassuring tone wash over him.

Barry drops his hand. Hal hears the door close, and then before he can even open his eyes his back hits the mattress, Barry's quilt is draped over him and his best friend is suddenly right _there,_ so close that Hal can feel his breath against the side of his face. He watches Barry's eyes droop as soon as he gets comfortable. 

“You better not snore," Barry mumbles, the sound muffled by the quilt drawn up over his mouth.

Hal lets out the breath he was holding with a  _huff_ , still not quite trusting himself to speak. Barry hesitates for a moment before turning away from him, dragging the quilt up even higher with a small sigh. Brown eyes stare at the back of his blond head as his stomach bubbles with indecision.

He feels guilty. He shouldn't be here, shouldn't be taking advantage of Barry's never-ending hospitality when he fucked up so badly today. His fingers clench in the sheets, teeth grinding against teeth.  _He doesn't deserve this_. He doesn't deserve to have Barry take care of him like this, not when there are lives that he failed to protect today, not when he couldn't save anyone on that godforsaken planet, not even that little girl, the one covered in so much  _blood_ –

Barry’s arm curls around his stomach lightning quick and tugs him back against his chest. Hal blinks. Tenses.  _What–_

“ _Sleep_.” Barry’s voice is muffled by Hal's shoulder, but Hal hears him regardless. “Stop thinking.”

He listens to Barry's soft breaths, feels them against the side of his neck, and it's so ridiculously comforting that he feels his stomach unclench despite himself. Barry's hand shifts upward so that it's resting on top of his heart and Hal feels his eyes burn as he stares at the top of Barry's head.  _What did he do_ , he wonders _, what the fuck did he do to deserve having someone like Barry in his life?_

Barry's thumb shifts ever so slightly, his breathing evens out and the last of Hal's resistance snaps.  _Just for tonight,_ he thinks. He can let himself be greedy for just this once, can let the warm pressure of Barry's hand over his chest ground him and let the soft breaths against his neck trick him into believing that everything is okay. Hal shifts his shoulder so that he's more on his side, and Barry makes a soft, sleepy noise and tucks himself against his back.

 _This is nice_ , he thinks for the second time that night as he turns his head into one of Barry's soft pillows. His eyes slip closed.

_He can let himself have this. Just for tonight._


	6. Fluff n Stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt response: "who's respectively a dog person/cat person? and which one would be all for adopting either if the situation arose?"

Barry fumbles a shaking hand into his pocket for his keys, his shoulders sagging from exhaustion. His brain refuses to shut down, vivid images of the quintuple homicide he had just processed burnt into the back of his eyelids. It had been a particularly gruesome scene; one of the victims was a  _kid_. _Jesus_   _christ_.

He’s about to turn the lock when he hears a muffled noise from inside the apartment. He instantly goes on alert, back stiffening. He hovers a thumb over the release mechanism on his ring as he quietly turns the lock, pushing the door open with trepidation–

He lets out a startled  _yelp_  and instinctively jumps back as something races out the door and into the stairwell, followed by a familiar voice from inside the apartment.

“Shit!”

Barry throws the door open wide and is immediately met with the anxious face of his best friend, who is, apparently, back from his month long mission and lurking inside his apartment like a creep. _Goddamnit, he just about tackled him at mach six._

“Hal?” He steps into his apartment, letting the door fall closed with a quiet thump. “Jesus christ, I thought you were a burglar.”

“I– ” Hal pauses as a quiet  _yip_  sounds from behind his front door. Something starts to scratch on the wood. Hal’s expression freezes on his face.

“.. Hold on.”

He circles around Barry and opens the door. A furry  _thing_  bolts through the opening and into Hal’s arms, tiny body practically vibrating with excitement. Barry’s eyes go wide as he has to tap into the speedforce to catch a glimpse of the creature. It  _looks_  like a dog, cute little paws and a big fluffy tail, but then it turns its head and Barry catches a glimpse of its face– jesus christ is that an  _antenna–_

“Harold.  _No_.”

The huge smile Hal’s had on his face ever since the creature had jumped into his arms drops a little bit.

“But Barry! Look– he’s fast!” The creature wiggles out of his arms and starts running circles around the table at what looks like thirty miles an hour before bolting back to Hal, jumping up and down on his leg. Hal bends down and the creature immediately tries to jump into his arms, it’s tiny furry body vibrating with excess speed. Hal’s eyes are bright with unadulterated happiness, eyes crinkled up as the thing slobbers all over his face. He looks so  _happy. S_ omething flutters in Barry’s chest at the sight.  _Wait. Don't let yourself get distracted._

“Hal, what do you expect me to do with an  _alien dog_?”

Hal pauses in his furious petting to glance up at Barry, wide smile still plastered on his face. "I wasn’t sure what to do with him. The whole planet was a barren wasteland and this little guy was the only survivor.” He resumes his petting as the creature rolls on its back with a cute little  _yip_. “I’m not sure what species he is but the ring said he was safe and would be fine here on Earth. I can’t keep him with me on Oa, and I'm not planet-side enough to keep him at my apartment.”

The furball suddenly rolls to his feet in a blink and tentatively paws towards Barry, tail wagging so fast that a small amount of kinetic energy is being generated, sparks flying off of him. Barry’s can’t help the small smile that forms on his face. The thing is cute.. and  _fast_ , like some tiny dog-Flash. _He could get him a uniform.. wait, no. Don't think that._

He’s bending down to let the thing sniff his hand before he can stop himself. “How am I going to explain the super-fast _alien_ dog in my apartment if anyone comes in? He has an  _antenna_ , Hal.”

Hal glances around the apartment, noticing for the first time how barren it is. He frowns. “Doesn’t look like you have much of anything coming in here, buddy. What happened? Did Patty move out?”

Barry sighs, plopping on the ground with his back to the wall. The little creature hops into his lap and vibrates his body until Barry pets him. “Long story. She dumped me, ‘bout a week ago.”

Hal stands and moves to Barry’s side, sliding down the wall so that they’re on even footing. The creature is apparently overwhelmed at this development, running between the two of them in a blur, letting out quiet  _yips_  that make something in Barry’s heart clench. Hal's foot knocks against his shoe.

"Well, her loss."

Barry rolls his eyes, shoulders slumping as the self-loathing starts to seep back into his chest. He rubs at the back of his neck. "I dunno."

Hal snatches the little creature out of its marathon, forcefully turning it on its back and rubbing its belly. “What?" Hal raises an eyebrow at him. "I'm serious. Who would dump  _you?_ I mean you're–" he freezes, something strange flickering over his face. Before Barry can blink it's gone. _Hmm_. Hal coughs.

"You're a catch." Hal's elbow nudges at his ribcage. Barry winces. Hal sets the alien down and Barry watches as it starts to run in circles, chasing its own tail. 

He isn't sure that Patty was the _one_ for him, but she had slipped into his life, kept him going, kept him _human.._ and then had slipped right back out. He can't really blame her for wanting to leave, after going through what she did– after going through what _he_ did to her. She loved and supported him, but in the end she couldn't really relate to what he was going through, or deal with how crazy his life can get, not like–

Hal gives a tremendous laugh as the little creature trips over itself and flops onto the carpet with a startled yelp, shocking Barry from his thoughts.  _Right._  The  _alien dog_  on his carpet. He lets out a dramatic sigh. _What is his life, honestly._

“Hal why did you bring the dog here? You could have dropped him anywhere.”

Hal looks almost nervous for a second, finger scratching at the spot under his ear. “He– reminded me of you, I guess. I mean look at him! He’s so fast, and  _tiny._ ” Barry glares at him, causing Hal to smirk in response. “I even gave him an awesome name. You ready for this shit? Wait– ” he pauses to try to see where the creature had gone before giving a loud yell–

“ _Barktholomew!_ ”

Tiny paws scamper across the wood floor in Barry’s kitchen as the creature comes sprinting to Hal’s hand with a happy  _yip_. Barry rolls his eyes so hard he thinks he actually pulls a muscle in his eyeball. He gives another dramatic sigh, sliding the rest of the way to the floor, _huffing_  as the furball jumps on his chest, antenna bouncing with excitement. He stares down at the dog as he lets out a quiet snort.  _Barktholomew, really._

“I am not calling him that.”

Hal shoots him an offended look. “Too late buddy, it’s his name now. I already trained him to respond to it.” He pats the creature on the head once. “It’s an awesome name. Don’t deny it.”

Barry stares up at the furry face currently trying to lick him to death. He really _is_ adorable.  _Goddamnit_.

“Okay, fine. You win.”

Hal stares at him. “Really. Just like that.”

Barry rubs a hand down Barktholomew’s back and smiles when the little alien lies down and begins to vibrate with happiness. “Yup. It’ll be nice to have a pet around. The apartment’s kind of empty at the moment.” He'll have to think up a nickname.. something that doesn't sound quite so lame as ' _Barky_ '.

Hal flops to the floor with him, both hands cushioning his head. “Speaking of empty apartments, is your couch free for a week or so? I'm not sure if my landlord officially evicted me, but my key doesn't work anymore, so–”

“It’s fine, Hal.” Barry cuts him off, turning his head to smile at him. The apartment already feels a little less empty; a little more like home.

“Stay as long as you need.”


	7. and a happy new year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *throws confetti over these two complimentary colors* congratulations u are perfect for each other. i am slightly drunk here is ur new year present <3

The construct fades with a soft _thrum_ , glowing chains dissolving around the last of the assailants. Their dead-weight bodies flop to the pavement in a pile of bad decisions.  _Seriously,_   _who tries to rob a bank on_ _New Year’s Eve?_  Guess it doesn't matter what time of the year it is– dickbags will still be dickbags. Hal rolls his shoulders, twisting his neck from side to side as he lets the last of his adrenaline fade. _Now, where did Barry get to?_

There’s a spark of electricity from up above him that catches his eye and he powers up his ring, drifting up the side of the building with a tired motion. His head pokes over the side just in time to see Barry slumping against the side of an AC unit, head lolling back against the cold metal with a groan _._

“Hey–” he drifts over the side of the rooftop and powers down, stepping around a neatly-stacked pile of debris to kneel down at Barry’s side “– you alright?”

Barry blinks his eyes open, dark blue eyes connecting with his own before he grimaces, hand shifting against his ribs as he tries to stifle a hiss of pain. Hal frowns, pulling Barry’s arm out of the way and doing a quick scan with his ring.

“You got a hairline fracture in one of your ribs and a pretty nasty burn, but you’ll live.” He gently drops Barry’s arm back to his side before plopping down beside him, tilting his head to the side and shooting Barry a smirk. “I think your suit’s toast, though.”

Barry glances down at his ribs, corners of his mouth tilted down in a deep frown as he takes in the huge tear surrounded by blackened fabric.

“Awe man _._  I _just_ finished making this one.” He lets out a deep sigh, breath condensing in front of him and fading out into the night “Freaking _space lasers_.”

Hal snortsand bumps his shoulder against Barry’s. “You have, like, a hundred more.”

“Yeah, but this one was my _favorite_ ,” Barry whines, sadly poking at the burn hole in his suit. Hal lets out a quiet laugh, eyes crinkling with amusement as he stares at the downward tilt of Barry’s earpiece.

“Dork.”

Barry smacks the side of his arm, fond smile on his face as he glances up at Hal from under his eyelashes. There’s a loud yell from somewhere below them and Barry blinks in surprise, like he had forgotten where they were.

“Oh hey– what time is it?”

Hal summons a quick display with his will. A green glowing 23:47 blinks back at them.

“I think this is the first New Year’s Eve I’m gonna spend completely sober. Now  _that’s_  depressing.”

The weight against his side vanishes _,_ reappearing with a crackle of kinetic energy before he can even blink. Barry hands him the bottle of champagne with a smug smile, something about the spark of mischief in his eyes making Hal swallow against the sudden dry feeling in his throat.

“Where’d you even get this? _France?_ ” He loosens the cork with a construct, the stopper sliding off the top of the bottle with a loud pop _._  Both of them watch as it sails over the side of the rooftop in a graceful arc. _Whoops_.

“It came from the finest 24 hour liquor store in Central. Sorry, I only had a twenty.”

Hal puts his hand over his heart with mock reverence. “Twenty dollar booze for _me?_  You spoil me, Bar.” He takes a sip of the champagne.  _Hmm, not bad_.

Barry nudges his side with his elbow, hand held out in askance and Hal hands him the bottle obediently. His eyes fixate on the way Barry’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and he has to look away.

“You know that’s not gonna do anything.”

Barry wipes at the back of his mouth with his hand. “Yeah, well– it’s tradition. No exceptions for speedsters.”

Hal _hmms_  in response, tugging the bottle back from Barry’s hands and taking another long swig as he stares out over the city, small smile on his face. It might be kind of sad, but this is actually the best New Year’s Eve Hal can remember having. Just him, Barry, and the muted sounds of Central in the background. He barely remembers last year’s, thinks he was at some seedy spaceport getting shitfaced on alien booze. He woke up without his pants on a moon half a sector over.. not one of his proudest moments. Before that, well.. let’s just say that a new year wasn’t something that he usually looked _forward_  to.

“So, any new year’s resolutions? Gonna finally open a bank account maybe?”

“That is literally the _lamest_  resolution of all time.” He reaches his arms back over his head, providing a buffer between the back of his skull and the cold metal. “Nah, I’ll leave the hopeful wishes to you, Mr. Blue Lantern. _”_ He takes another swig of the champagne. "Maybe I'll finally get Diana to let me fly her jet.”

Barry groans. “Yeah, _no_. Try again. I don't want to have to drag your unconscious body to the medbay again like last time. You’re pretty heavy, you know that?”

Hal smacks him on the leg, smile growing wider as he takes in Barry’s cute little grin. _Hey, stop that brain_. Barry’s tongue dips out to wipe at the remnants of champagne and Hal feels the back of his neck start to sweat. _Time for a distraction_.

“What about you? Any big plans for the new year? Gonna finally make a move on that blond from your lab?”

Barry sputters, coughing a little as the champagne gets stuck in his throat. “What? No, that’s..” he shoots a slightly panicked look in Hal’s direction, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. It’s really _too_ easy to get Barry riled up.

“.. that’s not, um, not happening.” He coughs again and takes another swig of champagne.

“Come on, no crazy ideas? Gonna get a tattoo? Sell off your sweater vest collection?”

Barryglares at him as if offended by the very suggestion and Hal laughs, nudging Barry’s thigh with his own. He watches as Barry’s face takes on a pensive expression, blue eyes staring at the spot where their thighs meet as he fiddles with the lip of the bottle. Barry shakes his head a little bit as if to clear his thoughts, face getting even more red than before as he clears his throat.

“No.. no resolutions. I haven’t really thought about it, I guess.”

Hal purses his lips as he observes Barry raise an arm to fiddle with one of his ear pieces in an obvious tell. _Gotcha_.

“Not buyin’ it, Bar. Didn’t I teach you to be a better liar than this? That was pathetic.”

Barry’s head shoots up. “I– what? I’m not lying.”

Hal reaches over to tap his nose with a gloved finger, grinning with delight as Barry swats his hand away in annoyance.

“Yes you were. You do this thing with your earpiece. _Very_ obvious.”

“I do _not–”_  Barry yanks his hand off his earpiece with an embarrassed flush. Hal lets out a loud laugh, the noise bouncing off the walls of the surrounding rooftops and echoing out into the night.

“You _do_  have a resolution.” And it’s _embarrassing–_  even better. “Come on, you can tell me.”

Barry’s wide eyes flick to his face as his expression switches between something like panic and trepidation, fingers clenching against the red fabric of his suit. Something in Hal’s stomach flops at the look Barry’s giving him, like he’s dying to say something but he can’t quite bring himself to do it. The light atmosphere that they had before grows more serious, some weird sense of anticipation filling the air between them as Barry’s fingers tighten on the bottle of champagne.

“Bar?” His voice is quiet, head tilting in Barry’s direction as he slides a hand from behind his head to rest on Barry’s knee, squeezing lightly with what he hopes is a reassuring gesture. As soon as his hand makes contact he hear Barry inhale sharply, whole body tensing like he’s about to bolt. Blue eyes find his own as Barry’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, fingers clenched against his suit slowly unfurling and sliding upwards to rest over Hal’s own. Hal’s breath catches in his throat, heart beating out of his chest as Barry’s gaze drops to their hands.  _Oh shit._

“Maybe.. maybe I do have one. Something I’ve been thinking about for a while now.”

Hal clenches his fingers against Barry’s knee, something that feels a lot like hope fluttering in his stomach. He dips his head closer to Barry’s own, praying to whatever deity that exists that he’s not reading this wrong, that Barry’s saying what he thinks he’s saying.

“Yeah?” his voice is rough as he twists his hand around, threading their fingers together and Barry’s not pulling away, he just visibly steels himself and drags his gaze back to Hal’s own. He’s surprised by how close they are, just a few inches between his lips and Barry’s own and that distance seems way too far all of a sudden. The air between them practically crackles with tension. Barry’s eyes drop to Hal’s lips and he tugs on Hal’s hand, and that’s all the permission Hal needs before he presses their lips together.

 _Oh god._  He should have known that once he crossed that line, once he allowed himself to  _finally_ touch that he would never be able to stop. Barry tastes like the calm right before a storm, that still moment right before the lightning starts and it’s addicting, he nevers wants to taste anything else for the rest of his life as he moves his lips over Barry’s own and drags his hand around to tug the hood of Barry’s suit down so he can thread his fingers into the blond strands. 

Barry lets out a quiet moan and it’s the greatest sound Hal’s ever heard. His heart is about ready to burst as he tilts his jaw to the right and slips his tongue into Barry’s mouth, twisting it in a way that has Barry desperately clutching at the front of Hal’s suit. He vaguely notes the champagne bottle clattering to the ground, forgotten. Before he can even process Barry moving he suddenly has a lap full of speedster, and _wow_  this is even better than before.  _Barry always has the best ideas._  Barry threads his hands into Hal’s hair as he presses as close to him as he can possibly get, whole body vibrating slightly like he can’t quite help it. 

Hal slides his hands down to Barry’s hips, tugging him closer as he sucks on Barry’s lower lip. Both of them _gasp_  at the sudden contact. He pulls his lips back to mouth down the side of Barry’s jaw, nipping at the soft spot under Barry’s ear and Barry’s hips jerk forward, fingers tugging on Hal’s hair to drag him back up to his lips. Hal rolls his hips upward and Barry swears, pressing him back against the cold metal as he moves his lips over Hal’s, one hand sliding down to rest over Hal’s heart.

A loud bang erupts somewhere behind them and both of them jump as the sky illuminates with a soft purple light. A huge firework explodes into the night before fading back into the darkness. Hal presses his forehead to Barry’s, both of them breathing hard as Hal drags his thumb over Barry’s cheekbone. He smiles up at him with something that feels a lot like wonder. Barry’s fingers card through the back of his hair, hand shifting over Hal’s heart in a sweet gesture that makes something in Hal’s stomach melt.

“Happy new year.” Barry’s voice is soft as he pulls back slightly, eyes crinkling with happiness as he stares into Hal’s own. Hal can’t help but kiss him again, moving their lips together in a soft, gentle motion that’s so goddamn innocent, so full of hope that Hal starts to think that maybe this year won’t be so bad, maybe this year will be fucking  _fantastic_.

“Barry–”

Barry _hums_ , slipping his hand a little further down Hal’s chest as Hal starts to mouth down his neck. He tugs the collar of his suit out of the way so he can suck on his collarbone before mumbling the words into Barry's skin. "I thought of a resolution. You wanna hear what it is?”

He rolls his hips upwards and slides his hand down to rest on the swell of Barry’s ass to tug him closer.

“I think– _ah–_  I think I can guess.”


	8. happy birthday harold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For tumblr user [lantcrn](http://lantcrn.tumblr.com) a.k.a. [crydamoure](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Crydamoure/pseuds/Crydamoure) who is the green dude to my red dude <3

Barry’s eyes blink open, the gentle vibration from his phone alarm _buzzing_ against his thigh. He slips it out of his pocket, trying to remember why he had set it for so early, before he notices the date–

 _February 20th_. Hal’s birthday.

A smile tugs at his lips and he pushes himself up on one arm, tilting his head down to observe the person currently hogging all of the sheets.

Hal’s lips are parted, one arm haphazardly thrown above his head, the other still reaching in Barry’s direction as he snores quietly against the pillow. The sheets have gotten tangled around his hips during the night and Barry drags his eyes up Hal’s toned chest appreciatively, fingers moving of their own volition to follow the path of his gaze. Hal’s always quick to admit that he knows how good he looks– when he’s leaning back in the conference room chair with a dirty smirk or posing for the media after a hard-fought victory– but it’s little moments like these, when Hal’s unaware of anyone watching, where Barry always finds him the most beautiful.

He has to lean in to press a fond kiss to Hal’s collarbone, smiling against his warm skin as Hal makes a quiet, content sound in his sleep. It had taken a while– _okay, several shots of vodka–_  for him to weasel Hal’s birthday out of him. He's always been oddly reluctant to share that little bit of himself. Barry thinks that maybe Hal’s had a bad experience with birthdays, or hasn’t had a good one in a while.. and that simply will _not_ do. Barry had made sure to thoroughly wear Hal out last night so that he could sneak out of bed without Hal waking up to put the final touches on the cake and carefully arrange his present so that Hal can see it when he first walks into the kitchen. He wants Hal’s day to be perfect.. and that means starting the morning off with a pleasant surprise _._

Barry carefully untangles the sheets from around Hal’s middle, lifting them up and kneeling between Hal’s outstretched legs. _God_ , he looks so good in the morning light, golden hues filtering over firm muscles, accentuating his tanned skin and bringing out the rich chocolate color of Hal’s hair. He dips his head downwards, pressing the lightest of kisses to Hal’s sternum, fingers trailing up the outside of Hal’s thigh so he can rub his thumb in fond circles around his hipbone. Hal shifts in his sleep, knee knocking against Barry's leg, but doesn't wake up, just turns his head to the side and snores against the pillow. _Hmm_.. _maybe he wore him out a little too thoroughly._

Hot lips press along warm skin as he kisses a path from Hal’s hip to his navel, nose brushing against soft brown hairs as he slides his fingers up the inside of Hal’s thigh with deliberate slowness. He nips at the v-shaped muscles, teeth brushing along the firm planes as he ghosts his lips over Hal’s cock. Hal lets out a quiet moan in his sleep as his hips twitch upwards. Barry smiles, tongue flicking out to swirl over the base of Hal’s dick, a light touch that causes Hal’s legs to spread wider, a tiny furrow forming on his brow.

He doesn’t do this that often– not when Hal’s usually so.. _enthusiastic_ about his _oral talent_ – but he’s a fast learner, and he’s experienced enough to know what Hal likes. Barry drags his tongue up the side of Hal’s cock, flicking a light, teasing touch over the head as he inches his fingers higher, rubbing along the crease where thigh meets pelvis and slipping them inward. Hal’s hips give another twitch, muffled moan falling from his lips as Barry closes his mouth over the head and gently sucks. He watches Hal’s reaction from under long lashes, watches the subtle clench of Hal’s muscles as he dips his tongue further down, dragging it back and forth along the underside of cock before pulling back and licking his lips.

 _God_ , he looks so gorgeous. He still can’t quite believe that he gets to have _this–_  gets to be in love with his best friend and have him love him in return, gets to hang around his favorite person all day and take him to bed at night, gets to curl around him when he sleeps and bury his face into the back of his neck. It’s everything he’s wanted for years now, and sometimes when he looks at Hal twisted up in his bedsheets like he belongs there, like he’s always been there.. it’s unbelievable.

He runs a finger up the underside of Hal’s hard cock, watching with bated breath as Hal mumbles something under his breath, twists his fingers into the sheets and whimpers.  _He must have been more tired than he thought_. Barry can’t resist leaning back down and wrapping his lips around Hal’s dick, sliding down about half way and swirling his tongue with a lazy swipe, sliding back up to flick at the slit before hollowing his cheeks and sucking. Hal’s hips lift off the sheets, strangled sounding ‘ _Barry_ ’ falling from his lips and Barry pulls back, watching Hal’s long eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones but still– not waking up. _Hmmmm_.. _this calls for more drastic measures._

Barry closes his mouth back over the head of Hal’s cock, inching his fingers down between firm muscle and running along Hal’s –  _still wet,_ oh my _god_ – entrance. He dips his finger tip inside at the same time he vibrates his tongue against Hal’s dick. Hal’s eyes shoot open with a strained sounding ‘ _Fuck!_ ’, blinking rapidly into the morning light before catching Barry’s gaze and dropping his head back to the pillow with a pleased sounding groan.

“Good– _ah!_ ” Barry eases his finger inside him, curling it as he slides it back out while still vibrating his tongue in a gentle, unhurried motion. “Good morning to you too, _fuck_.” Hal shifts his hips down, forcing Barry's finger deeper and moans loudly when he brushes over his prostate, head tilted down to watch Barry's mouth slide up and down on his cock. Barry just _hums_ around Hal's dick, bobbing his head as he slowly ramps up the vibrations, pumping his finger in time with the slide of his tongue, over and over until Hal's gasps fill the quiet stillness of the bedroom.

Hal slides his hands into Barry's hair, brushing over the blond strands with reverence before pushing at the back of Barry's head with an impatient motion, hips twitching as he let's out a strained moan. Barry pulls back to press a soft kiss to Hal's navel, lips curling against warm skin as Hal whines. He shoots Hal the dirtiest smirk he can muster before sliding his lips over the tip and dragging his tongue all the way down, not stopping until his nose hits the soft brown hairs at the base of Hal's cock and slips inside him with two fingers. Barry makes sure to catch Hal's gaze, curling his fingers upward so that they're resting right where Hal's most sensitive, and vibrates his tongue and hand at the same time.

“Oh _fuck!_ ” Hal throws his head back against the pillow, fingers digging into the back of Barry's skull as his dick pulses inside Barry's mouth, hot liquid spurting from the tip and shooting down the back of Barry's throat. Barry chokes a bit, eyes watering as he swallows the best that he can–  _he really needs to get better at this–_ still pumping his finger inside Hal's wet heat as he milks every last drop from Hal's cock, refusing to pull away until Hal's batting at his wrist with a weak sounding whimper.

Barry pulls back with a satisfied smack of his lips, mouthing his way up Hal's abs and over his chest to press a soft kiss right below his ear.

“Happy Birthday.”

He feels Hal make a confused sound beneath him, fingers sliding around Barry's back to tug him close. Hal's head tilts to the side, pressing against Barry's as he clears his throat.

“It’s my birthday?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to change rating to mature 'cause of this.. _whoops_.


	9. missouri sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which hal is thirsty ( in more ways than one ). AU fic, Hal is still in the air force, Barry is an intern at the CCPD. I posted this on my Tumblr a lil bit back but forgot to put it here, sooo here you go!

_God_ , this is torture.  
  
It’s _hot._  Not _California_ hot, where the air is dry and the ground like a hot stove, baking you slowly until you’re roasting in your shorts. It’s _midwestern_ hot. Every breath he takes feels like he’s inhaling about a pound of dust, caking the inside of his lungs and making every breath he takes feel like his last. _Ugh. How do people even live here?_  
  
It’s not even his fault. He didn’t want to come to this.. to this country bumpkin festival, but his buddy Dave had promised ‘ _a fine sampling of Missouri babes_ ’ and.. well, it’s not like Hal's gonna say no to that.  
  
He kicks at an empty beer bottle, watching as it rolls across the debris-ridden ground. Dave had fucked right off as soon as a pretty brunette had batted her lashes at him–  _not like he’s gonna stop him.. he’s not a cockblock, thank you very much–_  leaving him to wander around this absolute embarrassment of a fair. What’s worse, he’s not technically off-duty, so the thick fabric of his flight suit is clinging to every sweaty patch of skin it can find. He tugs on the collar of his shirt with a grimace.  
  
God, he would _kill_ for a cold beer right about now.  
  
He spies some kind of drink shack a few yards ahead and pushes himself off the fence, sweat dripping from his nose onto his dog tags that are clinking against his collarbone. Hal shoves a hand into his pocket for his wallet, flipping it open and.. _yep_ , he doesn’t know what he expected. Nothin’ but air.  
  
Hal sighs, dragging a sweaty hand through the mop of brown hair on his head. He purses his lips and squints his eyes in the direction of the booth. A pair of startled blue eyes are staring back at him before they widen in horror. Hal watches with a raised eyebrow as head of blond hair ducks beneath the counter, not re-appearing for several seconds. He thinks he can see the blush on the guy’s face from _here_. He swipes a thumb across his lips.  
  
_Hmmm.. this could work.  
_  
There's a tall booth to his right and ducks behind it to quickly tug off his sweaty undershirt. He shoves it into his pocket and runs his hand through his hair one more time before poking his head around the corner and waiting for the last customer to leave. A quick glance down to make sure his flight suit zipper is settled somewhere around his navel, both hands shoved into his pockets and a cocky smirk on his face. _Ready to fly._  
  
Hal’s about five feet from the counter when the guy hears his approach. There’s a muffled “– _be with you in a second!_ ” from somewhere behind a curtain, which gives Hal time to make sure he’s leaning over the counter as seductively as possible when the guy finally ducks his head through the fabric. An assortment of multicolored cans is bundled in his arms, and the blond sets them down in an ice chest below the counter before wiping his hands with a towel and tossing it back over his shoulder.  
  
“Sorry, what can I get for y–”  
  
It’s almost comical, the way the guy’s whole body freezes up when he sees him behind the counter. Hal almost feels bad for the guy.  _The word overkill comes to mind._  The way those big blue eyes flick from his face to the v of his flight suit and back up to his face with a bright red flush on his cheeks. _Aw– he’s cute._ He smirks.

“Hi.”  
  
The blond blushes even harder and Hal starts to feel like maybe this is the best idea he’s ever had.  
  
“Hi. Hello, _um–_ ” the guy runs a hand through his hair, looking entirely too flustered when _really_ , Hal hasn’t even started. Those blue eyes settle on the little bit of collarbone peaking out of his flight suit and Hal stretches his arms out so that he can get a better view. He hears the guy make a choked sound.  
  
“–sorry, uh, what can I.. get for you?”  
  
Hal makes a big show of looking over the menu, making sure to poke his tongue out through his teeth like he’s thinking real hard. Brown eyes flick back to the blond and– yep, his eyes are fixated on his lips.  _Honestly, this is a little_ too _easy_.  
  
“Hmm, well I’m having a real _hard_ time deciding. I’m not from around here, you see.” His words are punctuated with a megawatt smile that only grows wider as the blond appears to muster his courage and takes a step closer. He drops his elbow to the counter, cheek resting on his hand and a nervous-looking smirk of his own quirking on his lips.

“Hmm, well I don’t imagine there’s a corner of the United States that doesn’t have–” he flicks his head back towards the cooler “– five varieties of Pepsi products.” His eyes dart towards his dog tags before setting back on his face. “Whereabouts you from, _Hal?_ ”

 _Just keep smiling!_ He smiles wider. For some reason, the motion doesn't feel nearly as forced as he thought it would. Hal watches as the guys eyes soften ever so slightly. He can't help but think that this guy has a  _really_ nice smile. He inches ever so slightly closer into his personal space.

“Coast city.” He licks his lips and watches as the blond visibly swallows.  
  
“O-oh? You’re a pilot, right?” The guy’s voice is almost breathless and jeez, his eyes are _really_ blue this close. Hal grins.  
  
“What gave it away–” he glances at the guy’s name tag, grinning just a little bit wider at the little smiley face scribbled after the name “– _Barry?_ ”  
  
He watches with something like wonder as the bright red flush on Barry’s cheeks deepens, one hand scratching at the patch of blond hair behind his ear in an obvious nervous tick. He breathes out another laugh and decides to be merciful.  
  
“Yeah, I’m a pilot– my squadron is stationed at Central Air Base for a few days for repairs.” The repairs that were _totally not his fault, thank you_. He leans a little bit closer, fascinated by the way the pupils in those big blue eyes dilate right in front of him. _Damn_ , _he’s got nice eyes._  
  
“Just a few days?”

He watches as Barry visibly deflates, shoulders dropping and a tiny frown gracing those plush lips. Hal blinks, a weird, tight feeling in his chest.

“Um– yeah, ‘fraid so.” He pushes down any.. vulnerable feelings that he may be having and plants the sleaziest smirk he can muster on his face. “Why, you gonna miss me?” Barry laughs–  _and_ _even his laugh is cute, what the hell!–_  with something like disbelief.

“Umm.. I don’t even _know_  you.” Barry reaches for a water bottle and takes a sip.

Hal can practically taste the cold, and more importantly, _free,_  water already. “ _Hmm.._ ” he leans closer “.. do you want to?”

Barry chokes from where he’d been taking a sip of water, small droplets spraying out over the counter and Hal decides to go in for the kill, reaching out with one hand to swipe at a droplet of water on Barry’s chin.

“You got something– just there.” He pitches his voice low and sultry, and the second his thumb makes contact with Barry’s lower lip something hot flashes though his entire body, settling somewhere behind his navel. Barry’s eyes go wide, body frozen from the moment Hal’s skin touches his own and Hal drinks in the way Barry’s breath hitches in his throat, in the way that cute flush spreads down the swathe of exposed skin on his neck. _God_ , _he looks delicious_. Hal leans a little bit closer, eyes fixated on a tiny drop of water still clinging to Barry’s bottom lip–

“ _Excuse me_ – are you going to _order_ any time soon?”

Both of them jump. Hal runs a hand through his hair, heart pounding against his ribcage as he spins around on his heel. A middle aged woman is looking at them with visible disgust and he turns his head to watch Barry duck his head in embarrassment.

“Sorry, _um_ –” he looks up at Hal with a frazzled sort of apprehension written on his face “– are you.. I mean, did you actually want to order something, or..?”

Hal blinks. He’d actually forgotten why he came to this booth in the first place. He looks down at Barry’s lips one more time with obvious intent before stepping off to the side to lean against the corner of the booth. He throws the woman a defiant smirk. “After you, ma’am.” He winks at Barry. “I’m gonna be a while.”

Barry keeps throwing him glances as he grabs the woman a drink– like he’s checking to make sure he’s still there. It’s cute. _God_ , what is a guy this _cute_ doing working a refreshment stand at some backwater fair in the middle of Missouri? Hal feels positively _charmed._  Wasn’t he the one supposed to be doing the wooing here? The only time he remembers smiling this much is when he’s got the wind at his back, the open skies ahead.

The woman finally wobbles away and Hal slides back up to the counter as smoothly as he can.

“ _Sooo.._  Barry.”

Barry shuffles towards the counter with a nervous looking smile on his face.

“Y-yes?”

Hal smiles wider. He walks his fingers along the beat-up countertop and tries to play it cool, contrary to the way his heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest. “I’m in town for another four days, and I really want to see what Central has to offer.” He looks up at him from under long eyelashes. “I need a local to show me around. See the sights, y'know?”

“I– yeah that sounds.. I mean–” he glances around at the dwindling crowd “– I could.. if you wanted me to?” His face is bright red and Hal suddenly has a burning desire to see just how far down that blush goes. He tilts his head and smiles, something warm and anticipatory settling over him, his pulse spiking and mouth running dry.

“I’d like that.”

Barry smiles too, those beautiful blue eyes crinkling around the edges, cute little dimples under his cheeks and _damn_ , he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a nicer smile.

“Give me five minutes?”

“Sure. Don’t keep me waiting too long.” He winks again and Barry huffs out a quiet ' _charmer'_  wide smile still fixed on his face as he spins around to rummage through the ice chest. He tosses a bottle of water in Hal’s direction and the pilot catches it with ease.

“Here– it’s on the house."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my dudes i am so sorry for not updating i have been so goddamn busy with work it's killin me. but i'm planning some nanowrimo shit and have a rly long fic in the works along with a cute lil drabble series thing i'm working on soo hopefully i'll be pumpin out some new fics relatively soon. i love u guys i apologise for not updating in so long :c


	10. phobophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt response: "things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear"

“ _–et’r own banana_.”

Hal’s eyes blink open. Flick to the alarm clock on the side table. 3:45 AM. His eyebrows furrow in confusion– _what woke him up?_

“ _This one’s mine Solovar–_ ”

He pushes himself up on one arm and glances down at his sleeping companion. The one currently drooling on his pillow, blond hair sticking up in every direction.

The one who, _apparently_ , likes to _talk in his sleep_. Barry’s arm tightens around his chest.

“– _m’banana._ ”

Hal snorts. _Dork._ He settles back down onto the bed and slots his ass against Barry’s hips, making sure there’s no space between them as he lets his eyes slip closed. He can feel the reverberations as Barry makes a pleased noise against the back of his neck.

“ _Hal_.”

He smiles. Wiggles his ass ever-so-slightly as if to say _yes, it’s me_. Barry’s nose tickles his skin as he rubs it back and forth against the short hairs at the base of his head. He lets out a sleepy-sounding sigh, thumb resting just above Hal’s heart.

“– _love you so much_.”

Hal freezes. Every muscle in his body goes tense as Barry tugs him a little tighter and stops squirming around, his breath even and smooth. _Still asleep._

_– love you so much._

_He loves me_. Hal’s heartbeat spikes unpleasantly. The familiar trickling of anxiety seeps into his lungs, corrupting muscle and tissue and making it hard to suck in his next breath.

 _He loves me_. Fuck. _Fuck fuck fuck–_

This is where it begins. This where everything _always_  begins. The rolled eyes, the annoyed sighs and casual avoidance. The fights, the _demands_  that he change. This is where everyone realises that is isn’t worth it. That– that loving _him?_

It’s impossible.

The room feels cold all of a sudden. He imagines Barry– Barry, his best friend. The best person in the _whole_  universe. The only person who seems to _get_  him– to _truly_  get him, in every aspect of his life. The only person who seems to value his opinion, who always gives him a second chance. He imagines it now. _Vividly_. Watches behind closed eyelids as Barry gets more and more frustrated by him just– being _him_ – and grows more distant, snaps at him in annoyance and withdrawing those gentle touches that he knows he doesn’t deserve but yearns for anyways.

He can see it now. The way that one day, when he’s had enough of trying to _deal_ with him– he can see the way Barry’s shoulders will slump in exhaustion, the way he’ll point to the door and say _enough. I’ve had enough._

The thought makes his breath catch in his chest, makes the dread pool in his stomach until he feels like it’s going to bubble out of his throat, drowning him in this bed that they share.

 _He loves me_.

A weird-sounding keening noise slips past his lips and he buries his face into his pillow. Every muscle in his body feels tense– pulled taut, ready to snap at a moment’s notice.

He doesn’t _want_  Barry to leave. He never wants _anyone_ to leave, but especially– especially _Barry._

But he _will_.

He’ll leave as soon as he realises that loving him– that knowing him, inside and out– that _understanding_  who he is as a person is the beginning of the end. That something inside of him, something that’s a fundamental, _permanent_  part of him, is unlovable.

It’s just who he is. It’s who he’s always been. Person after person– his dad, his mom, Jack, Carol– they love him, but they all leave him in the end. No one can ever stay as long as he’s being _Hal Jordan_.

His fingers clench in the pillowcase, eyes clenched tight as the cold trickle of fear winds its way around his heart, slithering over every inch of his insecurities and self-loathing and _squeezing_  until he’s gasping against the sheets, chest so tight he can hardly _breathe_ – _god_ , _he doesn’t want barry to leave. Barry’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him._ He can feel the slight _tremble_  to his muscles still so tight and desperate and _hates it_ , he _hates_  being afraid. The corner of his eyes sting and the room is so cold, the fear is strangling him, wrapping its way around his throat and suffocating him with its intensity–

“Hal?”

The comforting timbre of Barry’s voice– the warm hand that reaches up to tangle in his own makes him suck in a desperate breath all at once, makes him press his forehead into the cotton and try to force himself to breathe _._ A second hand presses against his back, rubs in small, comforting circles that makes him _shudder_  with how goddamn _gentle_ it feels. He feels Barry slide his hand up to tug on his shoulder and turn him on his back. Their eyes meet.

“You okay?”

 _God_ , how did he not _notice?_  How did he not notice the way Barry’s eyes look when he looks at him? The way they get all soft and crinkly around the edges. The way they look _right now_ , tinged with concern and the underlying need to help and protect. How did he miss the _love_  he sees there now?

–  _love you so much._

Fuck. It’s _obvious_.

Barry’s hand slips from his shoulder up to his cheek and his palm feels so _warm_  against his cold and clammy skin. It makes that tight ball of fear and anxiety loosen in his chest to the point where he can finally suck in an even breath, up through his nose and out, out in a soft _sigh_  that fades into the still darkness of the bedroom. In and out. Just _breathe_.

He’s still here.

“Y-yeah.” Barry’s thumb brushes over his cheekbone and he tilts his head into the caress. “I’m okay.”

He’s okay. Barry’s still here, still wrapped around him like everything’s going to be okay. Still carding his fingers through his hair like he isn’t tired of him. Like he hasn’t quite realised yet that it’s not worth it– that _loving him_ isn’t worth it. He has some time– time to savor each gentle touch and try to memorize what it feels like.

He rolls onto his side and takes Barry with him, one arm thrown over his side, calf nudged between warm legs as he presses his face into his chest. Barry’s arm curls around his back and fingers slip into his hair, cradling the back of his head like he’s someone who deserves to be protected. He lets out a shaky breath against the worn cotton of Barry’s shirt.

“.. just a nightmare.”


	11. monophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in current DC events (Flash #23ish)... I actually wrote this BEFORE flash 23 came out so I feel so incredibly vindicated now
> 
> Warning: mentions of panic attacks & anxiety.

It’s early when he finally sets foot on solid ground. About six in the morning, judging by the position of the sun on the horizon. He wills his ring to scan for onlookers. << _Negative_ >> it replies in its usual soft, tinny voice.

Hal lets out a quiet sigh as his suit dissolves with a low _thrum_. A gust of gentle midwestern breeze ruffles his bangs and his lips curl in a soft smile.

 _God, he missed this big hunk of dirt_. Brown eyes flick to the house across the street, the one with the faded red door and the silver wind chime swaying in the morning wind.

More specifically, he’d missed the _people_ who lived on this rock. One person maybe more so than the others.

It’s why he’s _here_ instead of bugging his sister-in-law for homemade waffles, or watering the cactus in John’s apartment like he promised. Well.. its part of the reason why this is his first stop on his short leave of absence. He glances left, right, before picking his way to the porch across the road.

 _Apparently_ Flash has been off-grid. No contact, requested that everyone stays out of Central until he gave the all-clear. Hal frowns as he plods up the creaky wooden stairs. He wipes his feet on the mat and a smear of god-knows-what covers the bold ‘ _have a nice day!_ ’ printed on its front. Hal winces. _Well, it’s better than tracking stuff onto Barry’s floor._ He learned that the hard way.

He has his suspicions about why Barry’s requested that everyone stay out of Central, and none of them are good. Most of them lead to one psychotic fuck that can’t seem to take ‘not interested’ as an answer. Hal frowns even harder. _God, he hates that guy._

His knuckles rap on the door. More than 3 seconds go by, and Hal grows slightly uneasy. _Maybe he’s not home?_ A quiet command to his ring confirms one human male within the premises, so Hal knocks again, louder this time.

Twenty seconds go by and he shrugs. A subtle green construct slips into Barry’s keylock and the door swings open with a soft _click_.

Hal pokes his head through the door. No one in the living room, but he hears a sizzling sound coming from the kitchen, so he slips off his shoes and closes the door behind him. His toes sink into fluffy carpet and he feels a tiny knot of tension relax somewhere between his shoulder blades. Barry’s place always feels like more of a home than his apartment.. not that he’ll ever admit that because it’s pretty embarrassing and probably reveals a little too much.

He finally catches a glimpse of him when he turns the corner to the kitchen and whatever worries he had disappear all at once. _He’s okay._ Barry’s hunched over a pan, spatula moving in a practiced motion, apron tied securely around his waist. Hal notices a pair of headphones on his ears and his frown returns. Barry doesn’t usually break out the headphones unless he’s having issues with his speed. _The music helps him focus,_ he had said to him once, a cute blush on his cheeks and finger scratching at the skin below his ear. _If it sounds distorted, he knows he’s going too fast._

Well, that explains why he didn’t answer, at least.

Hal leans on the counter, face in his palm as he watches Barry cook. _Man_ , he’s really missed him. How long has it been? Two months? Four? Fuck, he’s lost count. Barry flips what looks like a pancake with an expert touch and it plops back down on the pan. Hal smiles.

 _Too long_ , he decides. _Maybe Barry will make him some pancakes, too._ He doesn’t remember the last actual Earth meal he’s had. He sees Barry reach for something to his left–

– and then his back is crashing against the wall, palm pressing against his throat as crackling electricity vaporizes the air around him. Hal’s eyes go wide as he struggles to breathe. _Oh shit_ –

He barely has time to process what the fuck happened before Barry’s terrified eyes are blinking back at his own, one hand grabbing at his hair and the other covering his mouth.

“Oh my god. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Barry’s arm reaches out to smooth down the collar of his jacket. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

 _He’s shaking_ , Hal notices with an even deeper frown. A warm hand reaches for the back of his head and Hal winces as a stab of pain shoots to his forehead. _Ow_. Barry snatches his hand back with a face full of regret.

“Christ, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–” Hal sees him wring his hands together. “I thought you were–”

He looks like someone just told told him that everything he’s ever loved is dead. _Nope. Nope, not acceptable._ Hal can’t stand looking at it for another goddamn second.

“ _Barry_. I’m fine.” Barry’s entire frame is slightly blurry around the edges. That ball of worry springs back into life as he reaches out to place both hands on Barry’s arms. The shaking dies down to a minimum, and Hal can finally get a good look at his face.

He looks _exhausted_. Deep purple bags under bloodshot eyes. A fading bruise on his upper lip. Part of his hair even looks burnt. Hal reaches up to flick at the ashy tips of blond hair with a sinking feeling in his stomach. _What the hell_. Hal’s eyebrows pinch with concern as he catches Barry’s gaze and squeezes his fingers around his arms.

“Are _you_ okay?” Hal notes another bruise peaking out from the top of Barry’s apron. A scattering of marks along one of his forearms that looks like he got dragged through a pile of glass. _Jesus_. What the fuck happened?

One of Barry’s hands reaches out and touches his chest, just a light touch, and only for a second, but before Hal can even question the movement he tugs his arm back and ducks out of Hal’s grip.

“What, me? I’m fine.” He smiles wide and it’s _good_. Very convincing. Crinkly eyes. Dimples. The works. But Hal’s not buying it. He purses his lips and points to the damaged wall behind him with a raised eyebrow. Barry’s smile slips a little bit.

“I’m just– sorry, you just caught me off guard.”

Barry looks down at his chest as he scratches at the back of his head. Hal catches the blush on his face before there’s a _whoosh_ and Barry’s back in front of him, faded blue t-shirt on and apron nowhere to be scene. Hal rolls his eyes. _Still a complete and utter dork._ Barry takes another regretful look at him, opens his mouth to say something– when his eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Oh shoot, my pancakes!”

Hal follows Barry’s blurred outline back to the kitchen and watches as a hefty pile of pancakes appears on a plate, one after the other. He blinks and suddenly there’s a plate on the bar in front of him with three fluffy pancakes and a bottle of syrup ( _extra sweet– his favorite_ ) to his left. Barry scoots up to the bar on the opposite side and hands him a fork.

“Hungry?”

Hal grabs the fork with a grateful smile. A hefty helping of syrup douses his pancakes and when he pops a forkful into his mouth he can’t stop the sensual moan that bubbles out of his throat. _Sweet jesus_ , _that’s good._

He hears Barry laugh, cheekbones still dusted with a light shade of pink as he takes a sip of his orange juice.

“I figured you’d want some Earth food, since you’ve been gone for so l–” Barry’s eyes widen ever so slightly and Hal’s stomach drops. Barry coughs. “Um, for a while.”

Hal puts his fork down. “How long has it been?” he asks, not sure if he even wants to know the answer.

Barry takes a careful bite of his pancakes and washes it down with another sip of orange juice. He notices him flinch when the glass hits the bruise on his lip. Blue eyes flick up to meet his own.

“A while.”

Hal narrows his eyes. “Barry.”

Barry sighs. He fiddles with the end of his fork. His eyelashes flick down and Hal feels the dread settle in his chest. _Uh oh._

“Eight months.”

Hal lets out a long breath. One hand automatically moves to run through his hair. “ _Shit_.”

 _Eight months_. Fuck, he didn’t even notice. With everything that happened since he left Jess and Simon with the league, what with kamikazing the yellow lantern corps, _dying_ ( _not one of his more well-thought out plans_ ), coming back, tracking down the blues, and every nonstop chain of events that’s happened since– he just hasn’t had the time to even _think_ , let alone come back to Earth for some R&R.

He glances up at Barry slowly eating his pancakes. _He looks sad._ Hal feels the guilt wash over him and lets the self-loathing settle back into his stomach like an old friend. Goddamnit. He’s such an asshole.

“M’sorry, Bar.” He pokes at his pancakes with his fork, his appetite forgotten. He lets out a sigh. “Been a hectic last few months.”

Barry’s hand settles over his own, just for a moment, but the warm contact is enough to tug him out of the sudden onslaught of depression long enough to take another bite of his pancakes. Barry took these off of his own stack; it’d be rude to not eat them.

“It’s okay– I get it.” He hears the clink of a fork against plate as Barry takes another few bites. When Barry sets his fork back down against his plate to take another sip of juice Hal sees it rattle a little bit unsteadily. _Hmm.._

“Any universe-ending event that I should know about?”

Hal snorts and shakes his head. “Nah, nothing like that.” He hums thoughtfully. “I _did_ blow up a planet, though.” He doesn’t tell Barry that _he_ was the explosion.. and he really hopes that Barry will never find out.

Barry’s eyes widen ever-so-slightly and he lets out a low whistle followed by a tiny smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Not bad.”

Hal lets Barry’s praise lighten his mood enough to smile back and shove another clump of pancakes into his mouth. He eyes the depleting pile on Barry’s plate and once it gets down to the final two pancakes he decides that Barry’s eaten enough that he can start the interrogation.

“What about you? Been busy?”

Barry hesitates with the fork halfway to his mouth. The pancake on the end wobbles like it’s going to fall, but Barry scoops it into his mouth at the last moment. Hal narrows his eyes. Barry swallows.

“Yeah. Same old, same old, you know?” His voice wavers on the last few words. Hal’s suspicion only increases.

“Hmm.. interesting.” Hal grabs Barry’s orange juice and takes a sip. “Because a little green birdy told me that the Flash has requested that no League member come to Central.” Barry freezes and Hal rubs at his chin thoughtfully. “Doesn’t sound like the ‘ _same old’_ shit to me, Bar.”

Barry snatches back his orange juice and drains the last few sips before side stepping to the sink to wash out the cup. His face is infuriatingly blank. Barry’s usually pretty easy to read; the sudden lack of emotion is making Hal uncomfortable.

Something’s wrong.

“Yeah, just– a situation.” Barry puts the cup down on the drying rack and Hal watches his shoulders move up and down with a huge sigh. “I’m handling it.”

Hal scoots back from his chair and turns around the bar counter to lean against the dishwasher door. He crosses his arms over his chest and pins Barry with a stare.

“It doesn’t _look_ like you’re handling it.” His fingers reach up to tug on the little patch of burnt hair above Barry’s right eyebrow and he has to fight back the urge to beat up every person who ever did anything bad to Barry ever when Barry flinches back and looks down at his feet. Hal inches closer until they’re less than an arm’s length apart.

“Bar,” he keeps his voice quiet and nonjudgmental. “You look like you haven’t slept since I left.” He reaches out to touch his arm. “What’s wrong?”

Barry’s shoulder curl in on themselves as he hugs his arms to his chest. He looks smaller, Hal realises. Like he lost weight. Barry shakes his head again.

“I’m fine, Hal.” He shuffles his bare feet on the linoleum. “Just been a rough week. You know how it is.”

Hal does indeed know how it feels to get your shit kicked in so hard that every day is a struggle to even get out of bed, but that’s not what he’s seeing here. Something else is wrong. It’s not just the bruises or the burnt hair. Barry looks _scared_. He saw the way his eyes had looked when he had him pinned to the wall.

Terrified, with an edge of complete and utter panic.

Barry dodges around him to grab their plates. Hal watches him consolidate the pancakes onto one plate and swiftly cover them in plastic wrap before they’re placed onto the top shelf of the fridge. When Barry turns back around Hal plants a hand next to his head by the fridge to keep him there.

“Barry.”

Blue eyes won’t meet his gaze, and that’s all the confirmation he needs to know that Barry’s not telling him the full truth. He scoots his hand down to rest on Barry’s shoulder and gives it what he hopes is a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m here. Let me help.”

Barry’s eyes clench closed for a solid three seconds before he ducks under Hal’s arm to the stovetop.

“You shouldn’t actually be here.” His voice is quiet; defeated, almost. It makes Hal’s heart rate spike unpleasantly. Barry tosses the spatula into the greasy pan and heads for the sink. “I asked the _entire_ League to stay clear of Central until I dealt with the- the problem.”

Hal feels a surge of annoyance flood through him as he takes a step closer to where Barry’s setting the pan down on the counter. “I don’t give a shit about what you told the League, Barry.” He tries not to raise his voice but it’s really hard to stay calm when his best friend is in distress. “Something’s obviously wrong. I’m not leaving until you let me help you.”

Barry’s shoulders tense, his fingers clench around the spatula and then he tosses it into the sink and spins around. Hal almost takes a step back from the intensity of how panicked Barry looks.

“You _can’t_ ,” he chokes out raggedly, like his words were torn straight from his lungs without any finesse. The hairs on Hal’s arms stand straight up and he takes a step closer. Barry’s eyes close for a moment and his hand comes up to rub at his eyes. _God, he looks so tired_. “You can’t, Hal. You need to leave, you can’t be here–”

“Why?” Hal demands as crosses the rest of the distance to plant his hand on the counter behind Barry. Barry’s shaking, he realises. Fine trembles over every inch of his body and it makes something inside Hal’s chest tighten painfully. _He’s terrified_. He hears Barry’s breath hitch, watches his shoulder cave in on themselves again and then one of Barry’s hands covers his mouth and he slumps down the side of the counter.

“He’ll just–” he hears Barry let out a gut-wrenching sob that he desperately tries to contain. _Uh oh. Oh fuck, not good._ He starts to slump further down the wall and Hal grabs his arm to steady him. Barry’s hand that was clutching at the counter hits Hal’s chest, fingers claw at his shirt and he hears Barry suck in a painful-sounding breath as he chokes out the words.

“He’ll just take you from me, too.”

The floodgates open then, and Hal doesn’t hesitate before scooping Barry against his chest as his whole body convulses with the intensity of his grief. One hand finds the back of Barry’s head, the other wraps securely around his back and he slowly lowers them to the floor, back propped up against the cabinets and one mess of a speedster piled in his lap.

 _Fuck_. _God fucking damnit_.

He feels his shirt getting soaked but he doesn’t care, just readjusts Barry so that he’s more comfortable and tucks his chin over Barry’s head. His own eyes start to water. _God, Barry’s so messed up_. He knows who the only person who could have done this to Barry is. He _knows,_ but he has to be sure about whose ass he’s about to toss into the sun.

“Thawne?” The name feels like sawdust in his mouth.

Another wracking sob gets muffled against his neck and Barry’s shaking again, fingers digging into the dog tags Hal keeps tucked under his shirt.

“He just– keeps taking and _taking_.” The words are barely intelligible with how much Barry’s crying. Every pained noise Barry makes goes right through Hal’s chest like a knife. “He’s–” another sob, louder than the rest “– _god_ , he’s not going to stop until I have nothing left.”

Hal’s heart shatters into a million pieces. _Goddamnit_. “Oh, Bar.” He doesn’t know what to do, so he just tugs him closer, offers what little bit of support he can give him. “He won’t take anything else. He _won’t_.”

Barry pushes his head back a little and Hal can see his bloodshot eyes, the hot trail of tears that roll down his face. _Shit, he looks miserable._ Broken, even. He’s never seen Barry like this before. He’s always so goddamn positive, always silently bearing whatever burden anyone asks of him. He just keeps giving and giving without thinking about his own shit even for a second.

“He already _has_ , Hal.” Man, those bright blue eyes are gonna haunt his dreams with how traumatized they look. “Not just my- my mom, but–” Barry’s shoulders convulse again and he reaches up to cover his mouth. “I had friends, when I was a kid. I found out–” Barry takes a deep breath that gets caught halfway through “– and he _killed them_ , Hal. He killed all of them, and now I don’t even know them. T-they never even _existed_ for me.”

An icy feeling settles deep in Hal’s stomach. _Jesus christ._ Barry’s eyes flood again and then his forehead is back on Hal’s shoulder, chest heaving and panic lacing every word. “He even killed my dog. When I was a kid– my fucking _dog_ , Hal, just to make sure that I would grow up alone.”

The sound that gets ripped from Barry’s throat is almost inhuman with how pained it sounds. Hal’s fingers sink into Barry’s hair and rub in a small circle as his gut churns with fury. Before he can say anything to reassure him Barry’s mouth opens against his neck.

“I always w-wondered why– my whole life, why no one ever–” Barry’s whole body tenses up “– and it was just _him_ , this whole time.”

All those years of loneliness and abandonment get poured into his shoulder and Hal can’t do anything but keep him from collapsing in on himself.

“And,” Barry sucks in a choked breath, “and last week he- he said he would–” Barry’s entire body shakes and Hal feels that spark of fury grow into something all-encompassing and relentless. “He said he would– run back and _adopt_ me. Would turn me into a version of him and be like a _f_ - _father_ to me, oh my _god_.”

He feels sick.

A huge wave of nausea rolls overs him and he knows Barry feels the same when he makes a gagging noise, turns his head to the side like he might throw up and Hal shifts to hold his head, free hand on the front of Barry’s chest to brace him. _Uh oh_.

“Shh, Bar– just breathe.”

Barry shakes his head as if to say _‘I can’t’_ and then he’s wheezing, dry-heaving and trying to force air into his lungs but choking like he can’t. His hand grabs at Hal’s over his chest, clutching at it desperately as he coughs.

 _Shit, not good._ Hal’s experienced enough panic attacks in his life to know what one looks like. He scoops him back against his chest and rubs his hand in a circle over his lungs.

“It’s gonna be okay, Bar. I’m not gonna let that happen, okay? I promise.”

He keeps his hold loose in case Barry needs to escape, but Barry just gasps against his chest, fingers clenching tight against Hal’s own as he tries to breathe. His whole body is trembling, head shaking back and forth like he disagrees.

“ _He–”_ Barry gasps, words breathed out in between wheezes and Hal makes a shushing noise but Barry sucks in another half-breath and keeps going. “He could, he could do it–” he sobs again, a sound that gets halted by another painful-sounding attempt at getting air into his body “– he could at any time, and I wouldn’t–” Barry’s fingers are starting to hurt his hand with how hard they’re holding on “– I wouldn’t even _know_ , it would just– _be_.”

The outlines of Barry’s body blur and Hal not quite sure how to deal with the fact that he can’t even feel a heartbeat under his palm, it’s pumping so fast.

Hal’s scared. He’s scared for his best friend. This isn’t something that’s just going to go away for Barry. This is unfiltered, raw _trauma_. This is something that lingers, something that’s going to affect Barry every day for the rest of his life. He doesn’t know how he’s made it this long without having a breakdown, honestly, with the fucked up shit that Thawne has put him through.

He’s also pissed. Red hot rage is filling up every muscle in his body with every confession that gets torn from Barry’s lips. He wants to find that pathetic yellow piece of shit and make him pay for every part of Barry’s happiness that he’s taken from him.

He’s _going_ to.

A spark of kinetic energy jumps from Barry’s arm and gives him a tiny shock. Hal jerks in surprise. Barry’s started to move too fast; any faster and he’ll probably start vibrating through the floor. _Shit_ , _he has to do something._

“Barry, hey–” Hal barely recognizes his own voice, it’s so desperate sounding. “Bar, please. You gotta slow down, okay? Just slow down and take a deep breath.” Another spark zaps his hand but he keeps holding on with gritted teeth.

“I’m here now, okay? You don’t have to deal with this alone.” Barry’s voice is kinda distorted, but he can hear another sob slip through. Hal twists his palm around to lace his fingers with Barry’s own and drag them to his chest.

“I’m gonna bring him to the prison cells on Mogo myself, okay?” He doesn’t know why he hasn’t done it sooner, to be honest. It’s never seemed like that big of a deal– Reverse Flash shows up, Barry kicks his ass, Reverse Flash leaves. But he didn’t _know_.

 _God, he didn’t know_.

Hal reaches out with his other hand and cups Barry’s out-of-focus cheek, trying to will Barry to believe what he’s saying.

“You’ll never have to see him again. He’ll be half a universe away, locked up so he can’t get to you.” Barry’s outline becomes a little more tangible. Hal keeps going, encouraged. “And if that isn’t enough then I’ll keep going, abandon him in a galaxy on the edge of the universe to live out the rest of his miserable life, okay?”

One last spark shocks his arm but he doesn’t let go, just keeps holding on until the vibrations die down to something more manageable– just a few shudders, every few seconds. Barry’s fingers flex around his own, and Hal squeezes back without hesitation.

He has his back. Barry has to know that by now.

Barry finally stills. He blinks a very long blink and falls slowly, slumping forward and Hal shifts his hand from his face to wrap his arm around his back and tug him close. He feels Barry breathing quickly against his neck, like he just ran around the globe a few hundred times. His chin settles back on top of Barry’s head, beyond relieved that he was able to calm Barry down.

 _Did he have that whole panic attack in the span of a minute? Jesus christ._ It sheds a new light on just how much Barry can hide if he doesn’t want anyone else to see. Who knows how many times Barry has shifted into a higher gear to panic so everyone else wouldn’t worry. Hal’s heart gives another _pang_ and his thumb shifts on its own to brush over the side of Barry’s hand. Barry really is the strongest person he knows.

Barry’s head shifts against his shoulder.

“He’ll escape,” he croaks through an overused throat. There’s a quiet sniff and then Barry’s lips move again. “He always finds a way.” His voice is no more than a whisper. Tired. Resigned. Hal tugs his head up to look at him.

“Then I’ll kill him.”

His voice is steady and calm. He’s never felt more sure of anything in his entire life.

If Thawne can’t be contained, he’s gonna take him out. He’s not going to let him keep ruining the life of the his best friend. There has to be limits to how many second chances a person can get, and Thawne already hit his a long time ago.

Barry’s eyes widen. Hal watches as his pupils flick between his own, like he’s not sure if he’s being serious or not. Hal lets him see how serious he is.

Thawne’s not going to take anything else from Barry.

The fact that Barry doesn’t say anything to discourage him just reassures him that it’s the right call. Barry just blinks slowly a few times before nodding and looking back down at Hal’s chest to where he’s still holding his hand. He stares for a moment, and then slips his hand out of Hal’s grip with a tiny sigh. Hal watches him wipe at his face and take a deep breath before putting his hands on Hal’s shoulders and pushing himself up all at once. He sways, tumbles–

Hal catches him like he always does, props him up against the counter and holds him so he doesn’t fall. He tugs Barry’s chin upwards to look him in the eye.

“When did you last sleep?” he asks with a gentle tone.

Barry blinks again, that super slow blink like he can’t quite remember how his eyes work, and then his eyebrows furrow. _Jeez, he’s never seen someone look this exhausted in his whole life_. Barry’s tongue swipes out to wet his lips.

“Umm.. not sure.”

Hal’s heart breaks all over again as he lets his hand drop to the counter. Barry looks down at their feet.

“I haven’t been able to. I keep–” he clears his throat, and the sound is barely audible, his words still a ragged whisper from his ruined throat. “I keep thinking that when I wake up someone else will be gone.” Barry’s hand wraps around his opposite arm. “That I’ll just wake up one day and won’t know who Iris is, or Wally..” his eyes flicker up to his and Hal can see them get bright, like he’s gonna start crying again “.. or you.”

Hal tugs him into another hug, one hand curling around the back of his head protectively. “That’s not gonna happen, Bar.” He squeezes his arm around Barry’s back. “We’re gonna take him down–” Hal rubs the back of Barry’s neck “ _– together_ , okay?”

Barry’s forehead thunks against his shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt," he whispers. "I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Hal rests his head on the top of Barry’s. “If you push your friends away now, Bar, then Thawne wins.” Hal cards his fingers through the back of his hair. He hears Barry let out another long, shaky breath, and then his shoulder slump, the last of his energy seemingly gone and Hal decides that it’s long past time Barry got some rest.

He scoops his arm under Barry’s knees and lifts him up, already halfway to the couch before he can protest. He sets Barry down and snags a pillow from the recliner, scoots it on top of his lap and plops Barry’s head down. The blanket on the back of the couch gets tugged down and pulled up to Barry’s neck.

“I’ll make sure nothing happens while you’re asleep, okay?” He powers back up his uniform, lets the soft green light of his will wash over him and gives a silent command to his ring to alert him of any speedforce activity outside of this room. He looks down, and Barry’s staring back up at him with half-lidded eyes.

He looks drained and exhausted, the dark purple of his eyes only heightened by the shadows now cast from the light of his ring. His eyes are still bloodshot, face still bruised, but the little crease between his eyebrows is gone, and all of the tension and anxiety seems to have been drained out of him. Barry blinks at him.

Hal feels self-conscious all of a sudden, and he resists the urge to scratch at the back of his head.

“What?”

Barry blinks again, and then his arm slips out from the blanket so he can rest his palm over the logo on Hal’s chest. Their eyes meet.

“Thank you.”

His eyes look watery again, but this time they’re filled with gratitude, not pain. Hal quirks his lips and reaches up to squeeze Barry’s hand.

“You don’t ever have to thank me, Bar.”

Barry opens his mouth to say something else, probably to protest, but Hal beats him to it.

“ _Sleep_ , Barry. I got you.”

Blue eyes slip closed, and Hal watches Barry’s whole body relax with a quiet noise. His left hand finds Barry’s hair of its own volition, fingers carding through the messy blond tufts as his rings scans the globe for threats, and finally, Barry falls asleep; warm, protected, and loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if hal shows up in flash 23 and tosses eobard into a black hole i will be so happy

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking all Halbarry prompt responses at my tumblr ( halbeary.tumblr.com) — hmu!


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